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THE   HEAKT   OF  EOME 

A  TALE  OF  THE  "  LOST  WATER  " 


THE  HEART  OF  ROME 


Cale  of  t^e  "  Lojst 


BY 


FRANCIS   MARION   CRAWFORD 

AUTHOR  OF  "CECILIA,"  "  SARACINESCA,"  "IN  THE  PALACE 
OF  THE  KING,"  ETC. 


Nefo  gorft 
THE  MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

LONDON:  MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LTD. 
1903 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1908, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 

Set  up,  electrotyped,  and  published  October,  1903. 


J.  S.  Cashing  &  Co.  -  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mats.,  U.S.A. 


PS 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

A  TALE  OF  THE  "  LOST  WATER  " 


THE  HEART   OF  ROME 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  Baroness  Volterra  drove  to  the  Palazzo  Conti 
in  the  heart  of  Rome  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
to  be  sure  of  finding  Donna  Clementina  at  home.  She 
had  tried  twice  to  telephone,  on  the  previous  afternoon, 
but  the  central  office  had  answered  that  "  the  communi 
cation  was  interrupted."  She  was  very  anxious  to  see 
Clementina  at  once,  in  order  to  get  her  support  for  a 
new  and  complicated  charity.  She  only  wanted  the 
name,  and  expected  nothing  else,  for  the  Conti  had  very 
little  ready  money,  though  they  still  lived  as  if  they 
were  rich.  This  did  not  matter  to  their  friends,  but 
was  a  source  of  constant  anxiety  to  their  creditors,  and 
to  the  good  Pompeo  Sassi,  the  steward  of  the  ruined 
estate.  He  alone  knew  what  the  Conti  owed,  for  none 
of  them  knew  much  about  it  themselves,  though  he  had 
done  his  best  to  make  the  state  of  things  clear  to  them. 

The  big  porter  of  the  palace  was  sweeping  the  pave 
ment  of  the  great  entrance,  as  the  cab  drove  in.  He 
wore  his  working  clothes  of  grey  linen  with  silver  but 
tons  bearing  the  ancient  arms  of  his  masters,  and  his 
third  best  gold-laced  cap.  There  was  nothing  surpris- 

B  1 


2  THE   HEART   OF    ROME 

ing  in  this,  at  such  an  early  hour,  and  as  he  was  a  grave 
man  with  a  long  grey  beard  that  made  him  look  very 
important,  the  lady  who  drove  up  in  the  open  cab  did 
not  notice  that  he  was  even  more  solemn  than  usual. 
When  she  appeared,  he  gave  one  more  glance  at  the 
spot  he  had  been  sweeping,  and  then  grounded  his 
broom  like  a  musket,  folded  his  hands  on  the  end  of  the 
broomstick  and  looked  at  her  as  if  he  wondered  what 
on  earth  had  brought  her  to  the  palace  at  that  moment, 
and  wished  that  she  would  take  herself  off  again  as 
soon  as  possible. 

He  did  not  even  lift  his  cap  to  her,  yet  there  was 
nothing  rude  in  his  manner.  He  behaved  like  a  man 
upon  whom  some  one  intrudes  when  he  is  in  great 
trouble. 

The  Baroness  was  rather  more  exigent  in  requiring 
respect  from  servants  than  most  princesses  of  the  Holy 
Roman  Empire,  for  her  position  in  the  aristocratic  scale 
was  not  very  well  defined. 

She  was  not  pleased,  and  spoke  with  excessive  cold 
ness  when  she  asked  if  Donna  Clementina  was  at  home. 
The  porter  stood  motionless  beside  the  cab,  leaning  on 
his  broom.  After  a  pause  he  said  in  a  rather  strange 
voice  that  Donna  Clementina  was  certainly  in,  but  that 
he  could  not  tell  whether  she  were  awake  or  not. 

"  Please  find  out,"  answered  the  Baroness,  with  im 
patience.  "  I  am  waiting,"  she  added  with  an  inde 
scribable  accent  of  annoyance  and  surprise,  as  if  she 
had  never  been  kept  waiting  before,  in  all  the  fifty 
years  of  her  more  or  less  fashionable  life. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  d 

There  were  speaking-tubes  in  the  porter's  lodge, 
communicating  with  each  floor  of  the  great  Conti 
palace,  but  the  porter  did  not  move. 

"  I  cannot  go  upstairs  and  leave  the  door,"  he  said. 

"You  can  speak  to  the  servant  through  the  tube,  I 
suppose  !  "  1 

The  porter  slowly  shook  his  massive  head,  and  his 
long  grey  beard  wagged  from  side  to  side. 

"  There  are  no  servants  upstairs,"  he  said.  "  There 
is  only  the  family." 

"  No  servants  ?     Are  you  crazy  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  answered  the  man  meditatively.  "  I  do 
not  think  I  am  mad.  The  servants  all  went  away  last 
night  after  dinner,  with  their  belongings.  There  were 
only  sixteen  left,  men  and  women,  for  I  counted  them." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  —  "  The  Baroness  stopped  in 
the  middle  of  her  question,  staring  in  amazement. 

The  porter  now  nodded,  as  solemnly  as  he  had 
before  shaken  his  head. 

"  Yes.     This  is  the  end  of  the  house  of  Conti." 

Then  he  looked  at  her  as  if  he  wished  to  be 
questioned,  for  he  knew  that  she  was  not  really  a 
great  lady,  and  guessed  that  in  spite  of  her  magnifi 
cent  superiority  and  coldness  she  was  not  above  talking 
to  a  servant  about  her  friends. 

"  But  they  must  have  somebody,"  she  said.  "  They 
must  eat,  I  suppose  !  Somebody  must  cook  for  them. 
They  cannot  starve  !  " 

"  Who  knows  ?  Who  knows  ?  Perhaps  they  will 
starve," 


4  THE  HEART   OF   HOME 

The  porter  evidently  took  a  gloomy  view  of  the 
case. 

"  But  why  did  the  servants  go  away  in  a  body  ?  " 
asked  the  Baroness,  descending  from  her  social  perch 
by  the  inviting  ladder  of  curiosity. 

"  They  never  were  paid.  None  of  us  ever  got  our 
wages.  For  some  time  the  family  has  paid  nobody. 
The  day  before  yesterday,  the  telephone  company  sent 
a  man  to  take  away  the  instrument.  Then  the  electric 
light  was  cut  off.  When  that  happens,  it  is  all  over." 

The  man  had  heard  of  the  phenomenon  from  a 
colleague. 

"  And  there  is  nobody  ?     They  have  nobody  at  all  ?  " 

The  Baroness  had  always  been  rich,  and  was  really 
trying  to  guess  what  would  happen  to  people  who  had 
no  servants. 

"  There  is  my  wife,"  said  the  porter.  "  But  she  is  old," 
he  added  apologetically,  "  and  the  palace  is  big.  Can 
she  sweep  out  three  hundred  rooms,  cook  for  two  fami 
lies  of  masters  and  dress  the  Princess's  hair  ?  She  can 
not  do  it." 

This  was  stated  with  gloomy  gravity.  The  Baroness 
also  shook  her  head  in  sympathy. 

"  There  were  sixteen  servants  in  the  house  yester 
day,"  continued  the  porter.  "  I  remember  when  there 
were  thirty,  in  the  times  of  the  old  Prince." 

"  There  would  be  still,  if  the  family  had  been  wise," 
said  the  Baroness  severely.  "  Is  your  wife  upstairs  ?  " 

"  Who  knows  where  she  is  ?  "  enquired  the  porter  by 
way  of  answer,  and  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  fears 


THE   HEART   OF    ROME  5 

that  he  may  never  see  his  wife  again.  "  There  are 
three  hundred  rooms.  Who  knows  where  she  is  ?  " 

The  Baroness  was  a  practical  woman  by  nature  and 
by  force  of  circumstances  ;  she  made  up  her  mind  to  go 
upstairs  and  see  for  herself  how  matters  stood.  The 
name  of  Donna  Clementina  might  not  just  now  carry 
much  weight  beside  those  of  the  patronesses  of  a  com 
plicated  charitable  organization  ;  in  fact  the  poor  lady 
must  be  in  a  position  to  need  charity  herself  rather 
than  to  dispense  it  to  others.  But  the  Baroness  had  a 
deep-rooted  prejudice  in  favour  of  the  old  aristocracy, 
and  guessed  that  it  would  afterwards  be  counted  to  her 
for  righteousness  if  she  could  be  the  first  to  offer  bound 
less  sympathy  and  limited  help  to  the  distressed  family. 

It  would  be  thought  distinctly  smart,  for  instance,  if 
she  should  take  the  Princess,  or  even  one  of  the  unmar 
ried  daughters,  to  her  own  house  for  a  few  days,  as  a 
refuge  from  the  sordid  atmosphere  of  debt  and  ruin, 
and  beyond  the  reach  of  vulgar  creditors,  one  of  whom, 
by  the  way,  she  knew  to  be  her  own  excellent  husband. 
The  Princess  was  probably  not  aware  of  that  fact,  for 
she  had  always  lived  in  sublime  ignorance  of  every 
thing  connected  with  money,  even  since  her  husband's 
death  ;  and  when  good  Pompeo  Sassi  tried  to  explain 
things,  telling  her  that  she  was  quite  ruined,  she  never 
listened  to  what  he  said.  If  the  family  had  debts,  why 
did  he  not  borrow  money  and  pay  them  ?  That  was 
what  he  was  paid  for  doing,  after  all.  It  was  true  that 
he  had  not  been  paid  for  a  year  or  two,  but  that  was  a 
wretched  detail.  Economy  ?  Had  not  the  Princess 


6  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

given  up  her  second  maid,  as  an  extravagance  ?  What 
more  did  the  man  expect  ? 

The  Baroness  knew  all  this  and  reflected  upon  what 
she  knew,  as  she  deliberately  got  out  of  her  cab  at  the 
foot  of  the  grand  staircase. 

"  I  will  go  upstairs  myself,"  she  said. 

"  Padrona,"  observed  the  porter,  standing  aside  with 
his  broom. 

He  explained  in  a  single  word  that  she  was  at  liberty 
to  go  upstairs  if  she  chose,  that  it  was  not  of  the  least 
use  to  go,  and  that  he  would  not  be  responsible  for  any 
disappointment  if  she  were  afterwards  not  pleased. 
There  is  no  language  in  the  world  which  can  say  more 
in  one  word  than  the  Italian,  or  less  in  ten  thousand, 
according  to  the  humour  of  the  speaker. 

The  Baroness  took  no  notice  as  she  went  up  the 
stairs.  She  was  not  very  tall,  and  was  growing  slowly 
and  surely  stout,  but  she  carried  her  rather  large  head 
high  and  had  cultivated  importance,  as  a  fine  art,  with 
some  success.  She  moved  steadily,  with  a  muffled 
sound  as  of  voluminous  invisible  silk  bellows  that 
opened  and  shut  at  each  step  ;  her  outer  dress  was 
sombre,  but  fashionable,  and  she  wore  a  long  gold 
chain  of  curious  and  fine  workmanship  to  carry  her 
hand-glass,  for  she  was  near-sighted.  Her  thick  hair 
was  iron-grey,  her  small  round  eyes  were  vaguely 
dark  with  greenish  lights,  her  complexion  was  like 
weak  coffee  and  milk,  sallow,  but  smooth,  even  and 
healthy.  She  was  a  strong  woman  of  fifty  years,  well 
used  to  the  world  and  its  ways ;  acquisitive,  inquisitive 


THE    HEART    OF    ROME  7 

and  socially  progressive  ;  not  knowing  how  to  wish 
back  anything  from  the  past,  so  long  as  there  was 
anything  in  the  future  to  wish  for  ;  a  good  wife  for  an 
ambitious  man. 

The  magnificent  marble  staircase  already  looked 
neglected ;  there  were  deep  shadows  of  dust  in  corners 
that  should  have  been  polished,  there  was  a  coat  of 
grey  dust  on  the  head  and  shoulders  of  the  colos 
sal  marble  statue  of  Commodus  in  the  niche  on  the 
first  landing ;  in  the  great  window  over  the  next, 
the  armorial  crowned  eagle  of  the  Conti,  cheeky,  ar 
gent  and  sable,  had  a  dejected  look,  as  if  he  were 
moulting. 

It  was  in  March,  and  though  the  sun  was  shining 
brightly  outside,  and  the  old  porter  wore  his  linen 
jacket,  as  if  it  were  already  spring,  there  was  a  cold 
draught  down  the  staircase,  and  the  Baroness  instinc 
tively  made  haste  up  the  steps,  and  was  glad  when  she 
reached  the  big  swinging  door  covered  with  red  baize 
and  studded  with  smart  brass  nails,  which  gave  access 
to  the  grand  apartment. 

By  force  of  habit,  she  opened  it  and  went  in.  There 
used  to  be  always  two  men  in  the  outer  hall,  all  day 
long,  and  sometimes  four,  ready  to  announce  visitors 
or  to  answer  questions,  as  the  case  might  be.  It  was 
deserted  now,  a  great,  dismal,  paved  hall,  already  dingy 
with  dust.  One  of  the  box-benches  was  open,  and  the 
tail  of  a  footman's  livery  greatcoat  which  had  been 
thrown  in  carelessly,  hung  over  the  edge  and  dragged 
on  the  marble  floor. 


8  THE   HEART   OF    ROME 

The  Baroness  realized  that  the  porter  had  spoken  the 
truth  and  that  all  the  servants  had  left  the  house,  as 
the  rats  leave  a  sinking  ship.  One  must  really  have 
seen  an  old  ship  sink  in  harbour  to  know  how  the  rats 
look,  black  and  grey,  fat  and  thin,  old  and  young,  their 
tiny  beads  of  eyes  glittering  with  fright  as  they  scurry 
up  the  hatches  and  make  for  every  deck  port  and 
scupper,  scrambling  and  tumbling  over  each  other  till 
they  flop  into  the  water  and  swim  away,  racing  for 
safety,  each  making  a  long  forked  wake  on  the  smooth 
surface,  with  a  steady  quick  ripple  like  the  tearing  of 
thin  paper  into  strips. 

The  strong  middle-aged  woman  who  stood  alone  in 
the  empty  hall  knew  nothing  of  sinking  vessels  or  the 
ways  of  rats,  but  she  had  known  incidentally  of  more 
than  one  catastrophe  like  this,  in  the  course  of  her 
husband's  ascendant  career,  and  somehow  he  had 
always  been  mysteriously  connected  with  each  one. 
An  evil-speaking  old  diplomatist  had  once  said  that  he 
remembered  Baron  Volterra  as  a  pawn-broking  dealer 
in  antiquities,  in  Florence,  thirty  years  earlier  ;  there 
was  probably  no  truth  in  the  story,  but  after  Volterra 
was  elected  a  Senator  of  the  Kingdom,  a  member  of 
the  opposition  had  alluded  to  it  with  piquant  irony  and 
the  result  had  been  the  exchange  of  several  bullets  at 
forty  paces,  whereby  honour  was  satisfied  without 
bloodshed. .  The  seconds,  who  were  well  disposed  to 
both  parties,  alone  knew  how  much  or  how  little 
powder  there  was  in  the  pistols,  and  they  were  discreet 
men,  who  kept  the  secret. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  9 

The  door  leading  to  the  antechamber  was  wide  open, 
and  the  Baroness  went  on  deliberately,  looking  about 
through  her  hand-glass,  in  the  half  light,  for  the  shut 
ters  were  not  all  open.  Dust  everywhere,  the  dust 
that  falls  silently  at  night  from  the  ancient  wooden  ceil 
ings  and  painted  beams  of  Roman  palaces,  the  dust  of 
centuries  accumulated  above  and  sifting  for  ever  to  the 
floors  below.  It  was  on  the  yellow  marble  pier  tables, 
on  the  dim  mirrors  in  their  eighteenth  century  frames, 
on  the  high  canopy  draped  with  silver  and  black  be 
neath  which  the  effigy  of  another  big  cheeky  eagle 
seemed  to  be  silently  moulting  under  his  antique  crown, 
the  emblem  of  a  race  that  had  lived  almost  on  the  same 
spot  for  eight  hundred  years,  through  good  and  bad 
repute,  but  in  nearly  uninterrupted  prosperity.  The 
Baroness,  who  hankered  after  greatness,  felt  that  the 
gloom  was  a  twilight  of  gods.  She  stood  still  before 
the  canopy,  the  symbol  of  princely  rank  and  privilege, 
the  invisible  silk  bellows  were  silent  for  a  few  seconds, 
and  she  wondered  whether  there  were  any  procurable 
sum  which  she  and  her  husband  would  grudge  in 
exchange  for  the  acknowledged  right  to  display  a 
crowned  eagle,  cheeky,  argent  and  sable,  in  their  hall, 
under  a  canopy  draped  with  their  own  colours.  She 
sighed,  since  no  one  could  hear  her,  and  she  went  on. 
The  sigh  was  not  only  for  the  hopelessness  of  ever 
reaching  such  social  greatness  ;  it  was  in  part  the  out 
ward  show  of  a  real  regret  that  it  should  have  come  to 
an  untimely  end.  Her  admiration  of  princes  was  as 
sincere  as  her  longing  to  be  one  of  them  ;  she  had  at 


10  THE   HEART   OF  HOME 

least  the  melancholy  satisfaction  of  sympathizing  with 
them  in  their  downfall.  It  brought  her  a  little  nearer 
to  them  in  imagination  if  not  in  fact. 

The  evolution  of  the  snob  has  been  going  on  quickly 
of  late,  and  quicker  than  ever  since  vast  wealth  has 
given  so  many  of  the  species  the  balance  of  at  least  one 
sort  of  power  in  society.  His  thoughts  are  still  the 
same,  but  his  outward  shape  approaches  strangely  near 
to  that  of  the  human  being.  There  are  snobs  now, 
who  behave  almost  as  nicely  in  the  privacy  of  their 
homes  as  in  the  presence  of  a  duchess.  They  are 
much  more  particular  as  to  the  way  in  which  others 
shall  behave  to  them.  That  is  a  test,  by  the  bye.  The 
snob  thinks  most  of  the  treatment  he  receives  from  the 
world;  the  gentleman  thinks  first  how  he  shall  act 
courteously  to  others. 

The  Baroness  went  on  and  entered  the  outer  recep 
tion  room,  and  looking  before  her  she  could  see 
through  the  open  doors  of  the  succeeding  drawing- 
rooms,  where  the  windows  had  been  opened  or  perhaps 
not  closed  on  the  previous  evening.  It  was  all  vast, 
stately  and  deserted.  Only  ten  days  earlier  she  had 
been  in  the  same  place  at  a  great  reception,  brilliant 
with  beautiful  women  and  handsome  men,  alive  with 
the  flashing  of  jewels  and  decorations  in  the  vivid 
light,  full  of  the  discreet  noise  of  society  in  good- 
humour,  full  of  faces  she  knew,  and  voices  familiar, 
and  of  the  moonlight  of  priceless  pearls  and  the  sun 
light  of  historic  diamonds  ;  all  of  which  manifestations 
she  dearly  loved. 


THE   HEART   OF   KOME  11 

Her  husband  had  perhaps  known  what  was  coming, 
and  how  soon,  but  she  had  not.  There  was  something 
awful  in  the  contrast.  As  she  went  through  one  of  the 
rooms  a  mouse  ran  from  under  the  fringe  of  a  velvet 
curtain  and  took  refuge  under  an  armchair.  She  had 
sat  in  that  very  chair  ten  days  ago  and  the  Russian 
ambassador  had  talked  to  her  ;  she  remembered  how  he 
had  tried  to  extract  information  from  her  about  the 
new  issue  of  three  and  a  half  per  cent  national  bonds, 
because  her  husband  was  one  of  the  financiers  who 
were  expected  to  "manipulate"  the  loan. 

A  portrait  of  a  Conti  in  black  velvet,  by  Velasquez, 
looked  down,  coldly  supercilious,  at  the  empty  arm 
chair  under  which  the  mouse  was  hiding.  It  could 
make  no  difference,  great  or  small,  to  him,  whether  the 
Baroness  Volterra  ever  sat  there  again  to  talk  with  an 
ambassador  ;  he  had  sat  where  he  pleased,  undisturbed 
in  his  own  house,  to  the  end  of  his  days,  and  no  one 
can  take  the  past  from  the  dead,  except  a  modern  Ger 
man  historian. 

Not  a  sound  broke  the  stillness,  except  the  steady 
plash  of  the  water  falling  into  the  fountain  in  the  wide 
court,  heard  distinctly  through  the  closed  windows. 
The  Baroness  wondered  if  any  one  were  awake  except 
the  old  porter  downstairs.  She  knew  the  house  toler 
ably  well.  Only  the  Princess  and  her  two  unmarried 
daughters  slept  in  the  apartment  she  had  entered,  far 
off,  at  the  very  end,  in  rooms  at  the  corner  overlooking 
the  small  square  and  the  narrow  street.  The  rest  of 
the  old  palace  was  surrounded  by  dark  and  narrow 


12  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

streets,  but  the  court  was  wide  and  full  of  sunshine. 
The  only  son  of  the  house,  though  he  was  now  the 
Prince,  lived  on  the  floor  above,  with  his  young  wife 
and  their  only  child,  in  what  had  been  a  separate 
establishment,  after  the  old  Roman  custom. 

The  Baroness  went  to  one  of  the  embrasures  of  the 
great  drawing-room  and  looked  through  the  panes  at 
the  windows  of  the  upper  story.  All  that  she  could 
see  were  shut ;  there  was  not  a  sign  of  life  in  the  huge 
building.  Ruin  had  closed  in  upon  it  and  all  it  held, 
softly,  without  noise  and  without  pity. 

It  was  their  own  fault,  of  course,  but  the  Baroness 
was  sorry  for  them,  for  she  was  not  quite  heartless,  in 
spite  of  her  hard  face.  The  gloomiest  landscape  must 
have  a  ray  of  light  in  it,  somewhere.  It  was  all  their 
own  fault ;  they  should  have  known  better ;  they 
should  have  counted  what  they  had  instead  of  spend 
ing  what  they  had  not.  But  their  fall  was  great,  as 
everything  had  been  in  their  prosperity,  and  it  was 
interesting  to  be  connected  with  it.  She  faintly  hoped 
Volterra  would  keep  the  palace  now  that  they  could 
certainly  never  pay  any  more  interest  on  the  mortgage, 
and  it  was  barely  possible  that  she  might  some  day 
live  in  it  herself,  though  she  understood  that  it  would 
be  in  very  bad  taste  to  occupy  it  at  once.  But  this 
was  unlikely,  for  her  husband  had  a  predilection  for 
a  new  house,  in  the  new  part  of  the  city,  full  of  new 
furniture  and  modern  French  pictures.  He  had  a  pro 
nounced  dislike  for  old  things,  including  old  pictures 
and  old  jewellery,  though  he  knew  much  about  both. 


THE    HEART    OF   HOME  13 

Possibly  they  reminded  him  of  that  absurd  story,  and 
of  his  duel  at  forty  paces. 

Volterra  would  sell  the  palace  to  the  Vatican,  with 
everything  in  it,  and  would  look  about  for  another 
lucrative  investment.  The  Vatican  bought  all  the 
palaces  in  the  market  for  religious  institutions,  and 
when  there  were  not  enough  "  it "  built  the  finest 
buildings  in  Rome  for  its  own  purposes.  Volterra  was 
mildly  anti-clerical  in  politics,  but  he  was  particularly 
fond  of  dealing  with  the  Vatican  for  real  estate.  The 
Vatican  was  a  most  admirable  house  of  business,  in  his 
estimation,  keen,  punctual  and  always  solvent ;  it  was 
good  for  a  financier  to  be  associated  with  such  an  insti 
tution.  It  drove  a  hard  bargain,  but  there  was  never 
any  hesitation  about  fulfilling  its  obligations  to  the  last 
farthing.  Dreaming  over  one  of  his  enormous  Havanas 
after  a  perfect  dinner,  Baron  Volterra,  Senator  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Italy,  often  wondered  whether  the  pros 
perity  of  the  whole  world  would  not  be  vastly  increased 
if  the  Vatican  would  consent  to  be  the  general  financial 
agent  for  the  European  nations.  Such  stability  as 
there  would  be,  such  order  !  Above  all,  such  guaran 
tees  of  good  faith  !  Besides  all  that,  there  were  its 
cordial  relations  with  the  United  States,  that  is  to  say, 
with  the  chief  source  of  the  world's  future  wealth  ! 
The  Senator's  strongly-marked  face  grew  sweetly 
thoughtful  as  he  followed  his  own  visions  in  the  air, 
and  when  his  wife  spoke  of  living  in  an  antiquated 
Roman  palace  and  buying  an  estate  with  an  old  title 
attached  to  it,  which  the  King  might  graciously  be 


14  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

pleased  to  ratify,  he  playfully  tapped  his  wife's  sallow 
cheek  with  two  fat  fingers  and  smiled  in  a  way  that 
showed  how  superior  he  was  to  such  weakness.  It  was 
not  even  worth  while  to  say  anything. 

Once  more  the  Baroness  sighed  as  she  turned  from 
the  window.  She  meant  to  have  her  own  way  in  the 
end,  but  it  was  hard  to  wait  so  long.  She  turned  from 
the  window,  glanced  at  a  beautiful  holy  family  by 
Bonifazio  which  hung  on  the  opposite  wall  above  an 
alabaster  table,  estimated  its  value  instinctively  and 
went  on  into  the  next  drawing-room. 

As  she  passed  through  the  door,  a  low  cry  of  pain 
made  her  start  and  hesitate,  and  she  stood  still.  The 
degree  of  her  acquaintance  with  the  members  of  the 
family  was  just  such  that  she  would  not  quite  dare 
to  intrude  upon  them  if  they  had  given  way  to 
an  expression  of  pardonable  weakness  under  their 
final  misfortune,  whereas  if  they  were  bearing 
it  with  reasonable  fortitude  she  could  allow  herself 
to  offer  her  sympathy  and  even  some  judicious 
help. 

She  stood  still  and  the  sound  was  repeated,  the  piti 
ful  little  tearless  complaint  of  a  young  thing  suffering 
alone.  It  was  somewhere  in  the  big  room,  hidden 
amongst  the  furniture  ;  which  was  less  stiffly  arranged 
here  than  in  the  outer  apartments.  There  were  books 
and  newspapers  on  the  table,  the  fireplace  was  half -full 
of  the  ashes  of  a  burnt-out  fire,  there  were  faded  flowers 
in  a  tall  vase  near  the  window,  there  was  the  undefin- 
able  presence  of  life  in  the  heavier  and  warmer  air.  At 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  15 

first  the  Baroness  had  thought  that  the  cry  came  from 
some  small  animal,  hurt  and  forgotten  there  in  the 
great  catastrophe  ;  a  moment  later  she  was  sure  that 
there  was  some  one  in  the  room. 

She  moved  cautiously  forward  in  the  direction 
whence  the  sound  had  come.  Then  she  saw  the  edge 
of  a  fawn-coloured  cloth  skirt  on  the  red  carpet  by  an 
armchair.  She  went  on,  hesitating  no  longer.  She 
had  seen  the  frock  only  a  day  or  two  ago,  and  it 
belonged  to  Sabina  Conti. 

A  very  fair  young  girl  was  kneeling  in  the  shadow, 
crouching  over  something  on  the  floor.  Her  hair  was 
like  the  pale  mist  in  the  morning,  tinged  with  gold. 
She  was  very  slight,  and  as  she  bent  down,  her  slen 
der  neck  was  dazzling  white  above  the  collar  of  her 
frock.  She  was  trembling  a  little. 

"  My  dear  Sabina,  what  has  happened  ?  "  asked  the 
Baroness  Volterra,  leaning  over  her  with  an  audible 
crack  in  the  region  of  the  waist. 

At  the  words  the  girl  turned  up  her  pale  face,  with 
out  the  least  start  of  surprise. 

"  It  is  dead,"  she  said,  in  a  very  low  voice. 

The  Baroness  looked  down,  and  saw  a  small  bunch 
of  yellow  feathers  lying  on  the  floor  at  the  girl's  knees ; 
the  poor  little  head  with  its  colourless  beak  lay  quite 
still  on  the  red  carpet,  turned  upon  one  side,  as  if  it 
were  resting. 

"  A  canary,"  observed  the  Baroness,  who  had  never 
had  a  pet  in  her  life,  and  had  always  wondered  how 
any  one  could  care  for  such  stupid  things. 


16  THE    HEAKT    OF    EOME 

But  the  violet  eyes  gazed  up  to  hers  reproachfully 
and  wonderingly. 

"It  is  dead." 

That  should  explain  everything  ;  surely  the  woman 
must  understand.  Yet  there  was  no  response.  The 
Baroness  stood  upright  again,  grasping  her  parasol  and 
looking  down  with  a  sort  of  respectful  indifference. 
Sabina  said  nothing,  but  took  up  the  dead  bird  very 
tenderly,  as  if  it  could  still  feel  that  she  loved  it, 
and  she  pressed  it  softly  to  her  breast,  bending  her 
head  to  it,  and  then  kissing  the  yellow  feathers.  When 
it  was  alive  it  used  to  nestle  there,  almost  as  it  lay 
now.  It  had  been  very  tame. 

"  I  suppose  a  cat  killed  it,"  said  the  Baroness,  wish 
ing  to  say  something. 

Sabina  shook  her  head.  She  had  found  it  lying 
there,  not  wounded,  its  feathers  not  torn — just  dead. 
It  was  of  no  use  to  answer.  She  rose  to  her  feet,  still 
holding  the  tiny  body  against  her  bosom,  and  she  looked 
at  the  Baroness,  mutely  asking  what  had  brought  her 
there,  and  wishing  that  she  would  go  away. 

"  I  came  to  see  your  sister,"  said  the  elder  woman, 
with  something  like  apology  in  the  tone. 

Sabina  was  still  very  pale,  and  her  delicate  lips  were 
pressed  together,  but  there  were  no  tears  in  her  eyes,  as 
she  waited  for  the  Baroness  to  say  more. 

"  Then  I  heard  the  bad  news,"  the  latter  continued. 
"  I  heard  it  from  the  porter." 

Sabina  looked  at  her  quietly.  If  she  had  heard  the 
bad  news,  why  had  she  not  gone  away  ?  The  Baroness 


THE   HEART   OF   KOME  17 

began  to  feel  uncomfortable.  She  almost  quailed 
before  the  pale  girl  of  seventeen,  slender  as  a  birch 
sapling  in  her  light  frock. 

"  It  occurred  to  me,"  she  continued  nervously,  "  that 
I  might  be  of  use." 

"You  are  very  kind,"  Sabina  answered,  with  the 
faintest  air  of  surprise,  "  but  I  really  do  not  see  that 
you  could  do  anything." 

"  Perhaps  your  mother  would  allow  you  to  spend  a 
few  days  with  me  —  until  things  are  more  settled," 
suggested  the  Baroness. 

"  Thank  you  very  much.  I  do  not  think  she  would 
like  that.  She  would  not  wish  me  to  be  away  from 
her  just  now,  I  am  sure.  Why  should  I  leave  her?" 

The  Baroness  Volterra  did  not  like  to  point  out  that 
the  Princess  Conti  might  soon  be  literally  homeless. 

"  May  I  ask  your  mother  ?  "  she  enquired.  "  Should 
you  like  to  come  to  me  for  a  few  days  ?  " 

"  If  my  mother  wishes  it." 

"  But  should  you  like  to  come  ?  "  persisted  the  elder 
woman. 

"  If  my  mother  thinks  it  is  best,"  answered  Sabina, 
avoiding  the  Baroness's  eyes,  as  she  resolutely  avoided 
answering  the  direct  question. 

But  the  Baroness  was  determined  if  possible  to  take 
in  one  of  the  family,  and  it  had  occurred  to  her  that 
Sabina  would  really  be  less  trouble  than  her  mother 
or  elder  sister.  Clementina  was  the  eldest  and  was 
already  looked  upon  as  an  old  maid.  She  was  in 
tensely  devout,  and  that  was  always  troublesome,  for 


18  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

it  meant  that  she  would  insist  upon  going  to  church 
at  impossibly  early  hours,  and  must  have  fish-dinners 
on  Fridays.  But  it  would  certainly  be  conferring  a 
favour  on  the  Princess  to  take  Sabina  off  her  hands 
at  such  a  time.  The  devout  Clementina  could  take 
care  of  herself.  With  her  face,  the  Baroness  reflected, 
she  would  be  safe  among  Cossacks  ;  besides,  she  could 
go  into  a  retreat,  and  stay  there,  if  necessary.  Sabina 
was  quite  different. 

The  Princess  thought  so  too,  as  it  turned  out. 
Sabina  took  the  visitor  to  her  mother's  door,  knocked, 
opened  and  then  went  away,  still  pressing  her  dead 
canary  to  her  bosom,  and  infinitely  glad  to  be  alone 
with  it  at  last. 

There  was  confusion  in  the  Princess  Conti's  bed 
room,  the  amazing  confusion  which  boils  up  about  an 
utterly  careless  woman  of  the  great  world,  if  she  be 
accidentally  left  without  a  maid  for  twenty-four  hours. 
It  seemed  as  if  everything  the  Princess  possessed  in 
the  way  of  clothes,  necessary  and  unnecessary,  had 
been  torn  from  wardrobes  and  chests  of  drawers  by  a 
cyclone  and  scattered  in  every  direction,  till  there  was 
not  space  to  move  or  sit  down  in  a  room  which  was 
thirty  feet  square. 

Princess  Conti  was  a  very  stout  woman  of  about  the 
same  age  as  her  visitor,  but  not  resembling  her  in  the 
least.  She  had  been  beautiful,  and  still  kept  the  daz 
zling  complexion  and  magnificent  eyes  for  which  she 
had  been  famous.  It  was  her  boast  that  she  slept 
eight  hours  every  night,  without  waking,  whatever 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  19 

happened,  and  she  always  advised  everybody  to  do  the 
same,  with  an  airy  indifference  to  possibilities  which 
would  have  done  credit  to  a  doctor. 

She  was  dressed,  or  rather  wrapped,  in  a  magnifi 
cent  purple  velvet  dressing-gown,  trimmed  with  sable, 
and  tied  round  her  ample  waist  with  a  silver  cord ;  her 
rather  scanty  grey  hair  stood  out  about  her  head  like  a 
cloud  in  a  high  wind ;  and  her  plump  hands  were  en 
cased  in  a  pair  of  old  white  gloves,  which  looked  oddly 
out  of  place.  She  was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  and  she  smiled  calmly  as  the  Baroness  entered. 
On  a  beautiful  inlaid  table  beside  her  stood  a  battered 
brass  tray  with  an  almost  shapeless  little  brass  coffee 
pot,  a  common  earthenware  cup,  chipped  at  the  edges, 
and  three  pieces  of  doubtful-looking  sugar  in  a  tiny 
saucer,  also  of  brass.  The  whole  had  evidently  been 
brought  from  a  small  cafe*  near  by,  which  had  long 
been  frequented  by  the  servants  from  the  palace. 

Judging  from  her  smile,  the  Princess  seemed  to 
think  total  ruin  rather  an  amusing  incident.  She  had 
always  complained  that  the  Romans  were  very  dull ; 
for  she  was  not  a  Roman  herself,  but  came  of  a  very 
great  old  Polish  family,  the  members  of  which  had 
been  distinguished  for  divers  forms  of  amiable  eccen 
tricity  during  a  couple  of  centuries. 

She  looked  at  the  Baroness,  and  smiled  pleasantly, 
showing  her  still  perfect  teeth. 

"  I  always  said  that  this  would  happen,"  she  ob 
served.  "  I  always  told  my  poor  husband  so." 

As  the  Prince  had  been  dead  ten  years,  the  Baroness 


20  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

thought  that  he  might  not  be  wholly  responsible  for 
the  ruin  of  his  estate,  but  she  discreetly  avoided  the 
suggestion.  She  began  to  make  a  little  apology  for 
her  visit. 

"But  I  am  delighted  to  see  you!"  cried  the  Prin 
cess.  "  You  can  help  me  to  pack.  You  know  I  have 
not  a  single  maid,  not  a  woman  in  the  house,  nor  a 
man  either.  Those  ridiculous  servants  fled  last  night 
as  if  we  had  the  plague  !  " 

"  So  you  are  going  out  of  town  ? "  enquired  the 
Baroness,  laying  down  her  parasol. 

"  Of  course.  Clementina  has  decided  to  be  a  nun, 
and  is  going  to  the  convent  this  morning.  So  sensible 
of  her,  poor  dear  !  It  is  true  that  she  has  made  up 
her  mind  to  do  it  three  or  four  times  before  now,  but 
the  circumstances  were  different,  and  I  hope  this  will 
be  final.  She  will  be  much  happier." 

The  Princess  stirred  the  muddy  coffee  in  the  chipped 
earthenware  cup,  and  then  sipped  it  thoughtfully, 
sipped  it  again,  and  made  a  face. 

"  You  see  my  breakfast,"  she  said,  and  then  laughed, 
as  if  the  shabby  brass  tray  were  a  part  of  the  train  of 
amusing  circumstances.  "  The  porter's  wife  went  and 
got  it  at  some  dirty  little  cafe*,"  she  added. 

"  How  dreadful  !  "  exclaimed  the  Baroness,  with 
more  real  s}^mpathy  in  her  voice  than  she  had  yet  shown. 

"I  assure  you,"  the  Princess  answered  serenely, 
"that  I  am  glad  to  have  any  coffee  at  all.  I  always 
told  poor  dear  Paolo  that  it  would  come  to  this." 

She  swallowed  the  rest  of  the  coffee  with  a  grimace, 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  21 

and  set  down  the  cup.  Then,  with  the  most  natural 
gesture  in  the  world,  she  pushed  the  tray  a  little  way 
across  the  inlaid  table,  towards  the  Baroness,  as  she 
would  have  pushed  it  towards  her  maid,  and  as  if  she 
wished  the  thing  taken  away.  She  did  it  merely  from 
force  of  habit,  no  doubt. 

Baroness  Volterra  understood  well  enough,  and  for  a 
moment  she  affected  not  to  see.  The  Princess  had  the 
blood  of  Polish  kings  in  her  veins,  mingled  with  that 
of  several  mediatized  princes,  but  that  was  no  reason 
why  she  should  treat  a  friend  like  a  servant ;  especially 
as  the  friend's  husband  practically  owned  the  palace 
and  its  contents,  and  had  lent  the  money  with  which 
the  high  and  mighty  lady  and  her  son  had  finally  ruined 
themselves.  Yet  so  overpowering  is  the  moral  domina 
tion  of  the  born  aristocrat  over  the  born  snob,  that  the 
Baroness  changed  her  mind,  and  humbly  took  the 
obnoxious  tray  away  and  set  it  down  on  another  table 
near  the  door. 

"  Thank  you  so  much,"  said  the  Princess  graciously. 
"  It  smells,  3^ou  know." 

"  Of  course,"  answered  the  Baroness.  "  It  is  not 
coffee  at  all  !  It  is  made  of  chicory  and  acorns." 

"  I  do  not  know  what  it  is  made  of,"  said  the  Prin 
cess,  without  interest,  "but  it  has  an  atrociously  bad 
smell,  and  it  has  made  a  green  stain  on  my  handker 
chief." 

She  looked  at  the  bit  of  transparently  fine  linen  with 
which  she  had  touched  her  lips,  and  threw  it  under  the 
table. 


22  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"  And  Sabina  ?  "  began  the  Baroness.  "  What  shall 
you  do  with  her  ?  " 

"  I  wish  I  knew  !  You  see,  my  daughter-in-law  has 
a  little  place  somewhere  in  the  Maremma.  It  is  an 
awful  hole,  I  believe,  and  very  unhealthy,  but  we  shall 
have  to  stay  there  for  a  few  days.  Then  I  shall  go  to 
Poland  and  see  my  brother.  I  am  sure  he  can  arrange 
everything  at  once,  and  we  shall  come  back  to  Rome  in 
the  autumn,  of  course,  just  as  usual.  Sassi  told  me 
only  last  week  that  two  or  three  millions  would  be 
enough.  And  what  is  that  ?  My  brother  is  so  rich  !  " 

The  stout  Princess  shrugged  her  shoulders  carelessly, 
as  if  a  few  millions  of  francs  more  or  less  could  really 
not  be  such  a  great  matter.  Somebody  had  always 
found  money  for  her  to  spend,  and  there  was  no  reason 
why  obliging  persons  should  not  continue  to  do  the 
same.  The  Baroness  showed  no  surprise,  but  wondered 
whether  the  Princess  might  not  have  to  lunch,  and  dine 
too,  on  some  nauseous  little  mess  brought  to  her  on  a 
battered  brass  tray.  It  was  quite  possible  that  she 
might  not  find  five  francs  in  her  purse  ;  it  was  equally 
possible  that  she  might  find  five  thousand  ;  the  only 
thing  quite  sure  was  that  she  had  not  taken  the  trouble 
to  look,  and  did  not  care  a  straw. 

"  Can  I  be  of  any  immediate  use  ? "  asked  the 
Baroness  with  unnecessary  timidity.  "Do  you  need 
ready  money  ?  " 

"Ready  money  ?"  echoed  the  Princess  with  alacrity. 
"Of  course  I  do  !  I  told  you,  Sassi  says  that  two  or 
three  millions  would  be  enough  to  go  on  with." 


THE   HEART   OP   ROME  23 

"  I  did  not  mean  that.     I  ani  afraid  —  " 

"  Oh  !  "  ejaculated  the  Princess  with  a  little  disap 
pointment.  "Nothing  else  would  be  of  any  use.  Of 
course  I  have  money  for  any  little  thing  I  need.  There 
is  my  purse.  Do  you  mind  looking  ?  I  know  I  had 
two  or  three  thousand  francs  the  other  day.  There 
must  be  something  left.  Please  count  it.  I  never  can 
count  right,  you  know." 

The  Baroness  took  up  the  mauve  morocco  pocket- 
book  to  which  the  Princess  pointed.  It  had  a  clasp  in 
which  a  pretty  sapphire  was  set  ;  she  opened  it  and 
took  out  a  few  notes  and  silver  coins,  which  she  counted. 

"  There  are  fifty-seven  francs,"  she  said. 

"  Is  that  all  ? "  asked  the  Princess  with  supreme 
indifference.  "  How  very  odd  !  " 

"  You  can  hardly  leave  Rome  with  so  little,"  observed 
the  Baroness.  "Will  you  not  allow  me  to  lend  you 
five  hundred  ?  I  happen  to  have  a  five  hundred  franc 
note  in  my  purse,  for  I  was  going  to  pay  a  bill  on  my 
way  home." 

"  Thanks,"  said  the  Princess.  "  That  will  save  me 
the  trouble  of  sending  for  Sassi.  He  always  bores  me 
dreadfully  with  his  figures.  Thank  you  very  much." 

"  Not  at  all,  dear  friend,"  the  Baroness  answered. 
"  It  is  a  pleasure,  I  assure  you.  But  I  had  thought  of 
asking  if  you  would  let  Sabina  come  and  stay  with  me 
for  a  little  while,  until  your  affairs  are  more  settled." 

"  Oh,  would  you  do  that  ?  "  asked  the  Princess  with 
something  like  enthusiasm.  "  I  really  do  not  know 
what  to  do  with  the  girl.  Of  course,  I  could  take  her 


24  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

to  Poland  and  marry  her  there,  but  she  is  so  peculiar, 
such  a  strange  child,  not  at  all  like  me.  It  really 
would  be  immensely  kind  of  you  to  take  her,  if  your 
husband  does  not  object." 

"  He  will  be  delighted." 

"  Yes,"  acquiesced  the  Princess  calmly.  "  You  see," 
she  continued  in  a  meditative  tone,  "  if  I  sent  her  to 
stay  with  any  of  our  cousins  here,  I  am  sure  they  would 
ask  her  all  sorts  of  questions  about  our  affairs,  and  she 
is  so  silly  that  she  would  blurt  out  everything  she 
fancied  she  knew,  whether  it  were  true  or  not  —  about 
my  son  and  his  wife,  you  know,  and  then,  the  money 
questions.  Poor  Sabina  !  she  has  not  a  particle  of 
tact !  It  really  would  be  good  of  you  to  take  her.  I 
shall  be  so  grateful." 

44 1  will  bring  my  maid  to  pack  her  things,"  suggested 
the  Baroness. 

"  Yes.  If  she  could  only  help  me  to  pack  mine  too ! 
Do  you  think  she  would  ?  " 

44  Of  course  !  " 

44  You  are  really  the  kindest  person  in  the  world," 
said  the  Princess.  44 1  was  quite  in  despair,  when  you 
came.  Just  look  at  those  things  !  " 

She  pointed  to  the  chairs  and  sofas,  covered  with 
clothes  and  dresses. 

44  But  your  boxes,  where  are  they  ? "  asked  the 
Baroness. 

44 1  have  not  the  least  idea  !  I  sent  the  porter's  wife 
to  try  and  find  them,  but  she  has  never  come  back. 
She  is  so  stupid,  poor  old  thing  !  " 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  25 

"I  think  I  had  better  bring  a  couple  of  men- 
servants,"  said  the  Baroness.  "  They  may  be  of  use. 
Should  you  like  my  carriage  to  take  you  to  the  station  ? 
Anything  I  can  do  —  " 

The  Princess  stared,  as  if  quite  puzzled. 

"  Thanks,  but  we  have  plenty  of  horses,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  but  you  said  that  all  your  servants  had  left 
last  night.  I  supposed  the  coachman  and  grooms  were 
gone  too." 

"  I  daresay  they  are  ! "  The  Princess  laughed. 
"  Then  we  will  go  in  cabs.  It  will  be  very  amusing. 
By  the  bye,  I  wonder  whether  those  brutes  of  men 
thought  of  leaving  the  poor  horses  anything  to  eat, 
and  water  !  I  must  really  go  and  see.  Poor  beasts  ! 
They  will  be  starving.  Will  you  come  with  me  ?  " 

She  moved  towards  the  door,  really  very  much  con 
cerned,  for  she  loved  horses. 

"  Will  you  go  down  like  that  ?  "  asked  the  Baroness 
aghast,  glancing  at  the  purple  velvet  dressing-gown, 
and  noticing,  as  the  Princess  moved,  that  her  feet,  on 
which  she  wore  small  kid  slippers,  were  stockingless. 

"  Why  not  ?     I  shall  not  catch  cold.     I  never  do." 

The  Baroness  would  have  given  anything  to  be 
above  caring  whether  any  one  should  ever  see  her, 
or  not,  on  the  stairs  of  her  house  in  a  purple  dressing- 
gown,  without  stockings  and  with  her  hair  standing  on 
end  ;  and  she  pondered  on  the  ways  of  the  aristocracy 
she  adored,  especially  as  represented  by  her  Excellency 
Marie-Sophie-Hedwige-Zenaide-Honorine-Pia  Rubomir- 
ska,  Dowager  Princess  Conti.  Ever  afterwards  she 


26  THE   HEART   OF   BOMB 

associated  purple  velvet  and  bare  feet  with  the  idea  of 
financial  catastrophe,  knowing  in  her  heart  that  even 
ruin  would  seem  bearable  if  it  could  bring  her  such 
magnificent  indifference  to  the  details  of  commonplace 
existence. 

At  that  moment,  however,  she  felt  that  she  was 
in  the  position  of  a  heaven-sent  protectress  to  the 
Princess. 

"No,"  she  said  firmly.  "I  will  go  myself  to  the 
stables,  and  the  porter  shall  feed  the  horses  if  there  is 
no  groom.  You  really  must  not  go  downstairs  look 
ing  like  that !  " 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  the  Princess,  surprised.  "  But 
of  course,  if  you  will  be  so  kind  as  to  see  whether  the 
horses  need  anything,  it  is  quite  useless  for  me  to  go 
myself.  You  will  promise  ?  I  am  sure  they  are  starv 
ing  by  this  time." 

The  Baroness  promised  solemnly,  and  said  that  she 
would  come  back  within  an  hour,  with  her  servants, 
to  take  away  Sabina  and  to  help  the  Princess's  prepa 
rations.  In  consideration  of  all  she  was  doing  the 
Princess  kissed  her  on  both  her  sallow  cheeks  as  she 
took  her  leave.  The  Princess  attached  no  importance 
at  all  to  this  mark  of  affectionate  esteem,  but  it  pleased 
the  Baroness  very  much. 

Just  as  the  latter  was  going  away,  the  door  opened 
suddenly,  and  a  weak -looking  young  man  put  in  his 
head. 

"  Mamma  !  Mamma  I  "  he  cried,  in  a  thin  tone  of 
distress,  almost  as  if  he  were  going  to  cry. 


THE   HEART   OF   EOME  27 

He  was  nearly  thirty  years  old,  though  he  looked 
younger.  He  was  thin,  and  pale,  with  a  muddy  and 
spotted  complexion,  and  his  scanty  black  hair  grew 
far  back  on  his  poorly  developed  forehead.  His  eyes 
had  a  look  that  was  half  startled,  half  false.  Though 
he  was  carefully  dressed  he  had  not  shaved,  because 
he  could  not  shave  himself  and  his  valet  had  departed 
with  the  rest  of  the  servants.  He  was  the  Princess's 
only  son,  himself  the  present  Prince,  and  the  heir  of 
all  the  Conti  since  the  year  eleven  hundred. 

"  Mamma  I  " 

"  What  is  the  matter,  sweetheart  ?  "  asked  the  Prin 
cess,  with  ready  sympathy.  "Your  hands  are  quite 
cold  !  Are  you  ill  ?  " 

"The  child!  Something  has  happened  to  it  —  we 
do  not  know  —  it  looks  so  strange  —  its  eyes  are 
turned  in  and  it  is  such  a  dreadful  colour  —  do 
come  —  " 

But  the  Princess  was  already  on  her  way,  and  he 
spoke  the  last  words  as  he  ran  after  her.  She  turned 
her  head  as  she  went  on. 

"  For  heaven's  sake  send  a  doctor  !  "  she  cried  to 
the  Baroness,  and  in  a  moment  she  was  gone,  with 
the  weak  young  man  close  at  her  side. 

The  Baroness  nodded  quickly,  and  when  all  three 
reached  the  door  she  left  the  two  to  go  upstairs  and 
ran  down,  with  a  tremendous  puffing  of  the  invisible 
silk  bellows. 

"  The  Prince's  little  girl  is  very  ill,"  she  said,  as  she 
passed  the  porter,  who  was  now  polishing  the  panes  of 


28  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

glass  in  the  door  of  his  lodge,  because  he  had  done  the 
same  thing  every  morning  for  twenty  years. 

He  almost  dropped  the  dingy  leather  he  was  using, 
but  before  he  could  answer,  the  cab  passed  out,  bearing 
the  Baroness  on  her  errand. 


CHAPTER   II 

SIGNOB  POMPEO  SASSI  sat  in  his  dingy  office  and 
tore  his  hair,  in  the  good  old  literal  Italian  sense. 
His  elbows  rested  on  the  shabby  black  oilcloth  glued 
to  the  table,  and  his  long  knotted  fingers  twisted  his 
few  remaining  locks,  on  each  side  of  his  head,  in  a 
way  that  was  painful  to  see.  From  time  to  time  he 
desisted  for  an  instant,  and  held  up  his  open  hands, 
the  fingers  quivering  with  emotion,  and  his  watery 
eyes  were  turned  upwards,  too,  as  if  directing  an  un 
spoken  prayer  to  the  dusty  rafters  of  the  ceiling.  The 
furrows  had  deepened  of  late  in  his  respectable,  trust- 
inspiring  face,  and  he  was  as  thin  as  a  skeleton  in 
leather. 

His  heart  was  broken.  On  the  big  sheet  of  thick 
hand-made  paper,  that  lay  on  the  desk,  scribbled  over 
with  rough  calculations  in  violet  ink,  there  were  a 
number  of  trial  impressions  of  the  old  stamp  he  had 
once  been  so  proud  to  use.  It  bore  a  rough  repre 
sentation  of  the  Conti  eagle,  encircled  by  the  legend : 
"  Eccellentissima  Casa  Coriti."  When  his  eyes  fell 
upon  it,  they  filled  with  tears.  The  Most  Excellent 
House  of  Conti  had  come  to  a  pitiful  end,  and  it  had 
been  Pompeo  Sassi's  unhappy  fate  to  see  its  fall. 

29 


30  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

Judging  from  his  looks,  he  was  not  to  survive  the 
catastrophe  very  long. 

He  loved  the  family,  and  yet  he  disliked  every  mem 
ber  of  it  personally  except  Sabina.  He  loved  the 
"  Eccellentissima  Casa,"  the  cheeky  eagle,  the  Velas 
quez  portraits  and  his  dingy  office,  but  he  never  had 
spoken  with  the  Princess,  her  son,  his  wife,  or  his 
sister  Clementina,  without  a  distinct  feeling  of  disap 
proving  aversion.  The  old  Prince  had  been  different. 
In  him  Sassi  had  still  been  able  to  respect  those  tra 
ditional  Ciceronian  virtues  which  were  inculcated  with 
terrific  severity  in  the  Roman  youth  of  fifty  years  ago. 
But  the  Prince  had  died  prematurely  at  the  age  of 
fifty,  and  with  him  the  Ciceronian  traditions  had  ended 
in  Casa  Conti,  and  their  place  had  been  taken  by  the 
caprices  of  the  big,  healthy,  indolent,  extravagant 
Polish  woman,  by  the  miserable  weaknesses  of  a  de 
generate  heir,  and  the  fanatic  religious  practices  of 
Donna  Clementina. 

Sassi  was  sure  that  they  all  three  hated  him  or 
despised  him,  or  both ;  yet  they  could  not  spare  him. 
For  different  reasons,  they  all  needed  money,  and  they 
had  long  been  used  to  believing  that  no  one  but  Sassi 
could  get  it  for  them,  since  no  one  else  knew  how 
deeply  the  family  was  involved.  He  always  made 
difficulties,  he  protested,  he  wrung  his  hands,  he  warned, 
he  implored ;  but  caprice,  vice  and  devotion  always 
overcame  his  objections,  and  year  after  year  the  ex 
hausted  estate  was  squeezed  and  pressed  and  mortgaged 
and  sold,  till  it  had  yielded  the  uttermost  farthing. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  31 

Then,  one  day,  the  whole  organization  of  Casa  Conti 
stood  still ;  the  unpaid  servants  fled,  the  unpaid  trades 
men  refused  to  trust  any  longer,  the  unpaid  holders  of 
mortgages  foreclosed,  the  Princess  departed  to  Poland, 
the  Prince  slunk  away  to  live  on  what  was  left  of  his 
wife's  small  estate,  Donna  Clementina  buried  herself 
in  a  convent  to  which  she  had  given  immense  sums, 
the  Conti  palace  was  for  sale,  and  Pompeo  Sassi  sat 
alone  in  his  office,  tearing  his  hair,  while  the  old  porter 
sat  in  his  lodge  downstairs  peeling  potatoes. 

It  was  not  for  himself  that  the  old  steward  of  the 
estate  was  in  danger  of  being  totally  bald.  He  had 
done  for  himself  what  others  would  not  allow  him  to 
do  for  them,  a  proceeding  which  affords  some  virtu 
ous  people  boundless  satisfaction,  though  it  procured 
him  none  at  all.  He  was  provided  for  in  his  old  age. 
During  more  than  thirty  years  he  had  saved  and 
scraped  and  invested  and  added  to  the  little  sum  of 
money  left  him  by  his  father,  an  honest  old  notary 
of  the  old  school,  until  he  possessed  what  was  a  very 
comfortable  competence  for  a  childless  old  man.  He 
had  a  small  house  of  his  own  near  the  Pantheon,  in 
which  he  occupied  two  rooms,  letting  the  rest,  and  he 
had  a  hundred  thousand  francs  in  government  bonds, 
besides  a  few  acres  of  vineyard  on  the  slope  of  Monte 
Mario. 

More  than  once,  in  the  sincerity  of  his  devotion  to 
the  family  he  served,  he  had  thought  of  sacrificing  all 
he  possessed  in  an  attempt  to  stave  off  final  ruin ;  but 
a  very  little  reflection  had  convinced  him  that  all  he 


32  THE    HEART   OF  HOME 

had  would  be  a  mere  drop  in  the  flood  of  extravagance, 
and  would  forthwith  disappear  with  the  rest  into  the 
bottomless  pit  of  debt. 

Even  that  generous  temptation  was  gone  now.  The 
house  having  collapsed,  its  members  appeared  to  him 
only  in  their  true  natures,  a  good-for-nothing  young 
man,  tainted  with  a  mortal  disease,  a  foolish  mother, 
a  devout  spinster  threatened  with  religious  mania,  and 
the  last  descendant  of  the  great  old  race,  one  little 
girl-child  not  likely  to  live,  and  perhaps  better  dead. 
In  their  several  ways  they  had  treated  him  as  the  con 
temptible  instrument  of  their  inclinations ;  they  were 
gone  from  his  life  and  he  was  glad  of  it,  when  he 
thought  of  each  one  separately.  Yet,  collectively,  he 
wished  them  all  in  the  palace  again,  even  a  month 
ago,  even  on  the  day  before  the  exodus;  good,  bad, 
indifferent,  no  matter  what,  they  had  been  Casa  Conti 
still,  to  the  end,  the  family  he  had  served  faithfully, 
honestly  and  hopelessly  for  upwards  of  a  third  of  a 
century.  That  might  seem  to  be  inconsistent,  but  it 
was  the  only  consistency  he  had  ever  known,  and  it 
was  loyalty,  of  a  kind. 

But  there  was  one  whom  he  wished  back  for  her 
own  sake;  there  was  Donna  Sabina.  When  he 
thought  of  her,  his  hands  fell  from  his  head  at  last, 
and  folded  themselves  over  the  scrawled  figures  on 
the  big  sheet  of  paper,  and  he  looked  long  and 
steadily  at  them,  without  seeing  them  at  all. 

He  wondered  what  would  become  of  her.  He  had 
seen  her  on  the  last  day  and  he  should  never  forget 


THE   HEART    OF   ROME  33 

it.  Before  going  away  with  the  Baroness  Volterra 
she  had  found  her  v?&y  to  his  dark  office,  and  had 
stood  a  few  moments  before  the  shabby  old  table, 
with  a  small  package  in  her  hand.  He  could  see  the 
slight  figure  still,  when  he  closed  his  eyes,  and  her 
misty  hair  against  the  cold  light  of  the  window.  She 
had  come  to  ask  him  if  he  would  bury  her  dead 
canary,  somewhere  under  the  sky  where  there  was 
grass  and  it  would  not  be  disturbed.  Where  could 
she  bury  it,  down  in  the  heart  of  Rome?  She  had 
wrapped  it  in  a  bit  of  pink  satin  and  had  laid  it  in 
a  little  brown  cardboard  box  which  had  been  full  of 
chocolates  from  Ronzi  and  Singer's  in  Piazza  Colonna. 
She  pushed  back  the  lid  a  finger's  breadth  and  he 
saw  the  pink  satin  for  a  second.  She  laid  the  box 
before  him.  Would  he  please  do  what  she  asked? 
Very  timidly  she  slipped  a  simple  little  ring  off  her 
finger,  one  of  those  gold  ones  with  the  sacred  mono 
gram  which  foreigners  insist  upon  calling  "Pax." 
She  said  she  had  bought  it  with  her  own  money,  and 
could  give  it  away.  She  wished  to  give  it  to  him. 
He  protested,  refused,  but  the  fathomless  violet  eyes 
gazed  into  his  very  reproachfully.  He  had  always 
been  so  kind  to  her,  she  said ;  would  he  not  keep  the 
little  ring  to  remember  her  by  ? 

So  he  had  taken  it,  and  that  same  day  he  had 
gone  all  the  way  to  his  lonely  vineyard  on  Monte 
Mario  carrying  the  chocolate  box  in  his  hands,  and  he 
had  buried  it  under  the  chestnut-tree  at  the  upper 
end,  where  there  was  some  grass ;  and  the  breeze 


34  THE  HEART   OF   ROME 

always  blew  there  on  summer  afternoons.  Then  he 
had  sat  on  the  roots  of  the  tree  for  a  while,  looking 
towards  Rome. 

He  would  have  plenty  of  time  to  go  to  the  vine 
yard  now,  for  in  a  little  while  he  should  have  noth 
ing  to  do,  as  the  palace  was  going  to  be  sold.  When 
he  got  home,  he  wrote  a  formal  letter  to  Donna 
Sabina,  informing  her  that  he  had  fulfilled  the  com 
mands  she  had  deigned  to  give  him,  and  ventured 
to  subscribe  himself  her  Excellency's  most  devoted, 
humble  and  grateful  servant,  as  indeed  he  was,  from 
the  bottom  of  his  heart.  In  twenty-four  hours  he 
received  a  note  from  her,  written  in  a  delicate  tall 
hand,  not  without  character,  on  paper  bearing  the 
address  of  Baron  Volterra's  house  in  Via  Ludovisi. 
She  thanked  him  in  few  words,  warmly  and  simply. 
He  read  the  note  several  times  and  then  put  it  away 
in  an  old-fashioned  brass-bound  secretary,  of  which 
he  always  kept  the  key  in  his  pocket.  It  was  the 
only  word  of  thanks  he  had  received  from  any  living 
member  of  the  Conti  family. 

A  month  had  passed  since  then,  but  as  he  sat  at 
his  desk  it  was  all  as  vivid  as  if  it  had  happened 
yesterday. 

He  was  in  his  office  to-day  because  he  had  received 
notice  that  some  one  was  coming  to  look  at  the 
palace  with  a  view  to  buying  it,  and  he  considered 
it  his  duty  to  show  it  to  possible  purchasers.  Baron 
Volterra  had  sent  him  word  in  the  morning,  and  he 
had  come  early.  Then,  as  he  sat  in  his  old  place, 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  35 

the  ruin  of  the  great  house  had  enacted  itself  again 
before  his  eyes,  so  vividly  that  the  pain  had  been 
almost  physical.  And  then,  he  had  fallen  to  thinking 
of  Sabina,  and  wondering  what  was  to  become  of  her. 
That  was  the  history  of  one  half -hour  in  his  life, 
on  a  May  afternoon;  but  the  whole  man  was  in  it, 
what  he  had  been  thirty  years  earlier,  and  a  month 
ago,  what  he  was  to-day  and  what  he  would  be  to 
the  end  of  his  life. 


CHAPTER   III 

IF  Sabina  had  known  what  was  before  her  when  she 
got  into  the  Baroness  Volterra's  carriage  and  was 
driven  up  to  the  Via  Ludovisi,  followed  by  a  cab  with 
her  luggage,  she  would  probably  have  begged  leave  to 
go  with  her  elder  sister .  to  the  convent.  Her  mother 
would  most  likely  have  refused  the  permission,  and  she 
would  have  been  obliged  to  accept  the  Volterras' 
hospitality  after  all,  but  she  would  have  had  the  satis 
faction  of  having  made  an  effort  to  keep  her  freedom 
before  entering  into  what  she  soon  looked  upon  as 
slavery. 

Her  mother  would  have  considered  this  another 
evidence  of  the  folly  inherent  in  all  the  Conti  family. 
Sabina  lived  in  a  luxurious  house,  she  was  treated  with 
consideration,  she  saw  her  friends,  and  desirable  young 
men  saw  her.  What  more  could  she  wish  ? 

All  this  was  true.  The  Baroness  was  at  great  pains 
to  make  much  of  her,  and  the  Baron's  manner  to  her 
was  at  once  flattering,  respectful  and  paternal.  During 
the  first  few  days  she  had  discovered  that  if  she  ac 
cidentally  expressed  the  smallest  wish  it  was  instantly 
fulfilled,  and  this  was  so  embarrassing  that  she  had 
since  taken  endless  pains  never  to  express  any  wish  at 
all.  Moreover  not  the  slightest  allusion  to  the  misfor- 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  37 

tunes  of  her  family  was  ever  made  before  her,  and  if 
she  was  in  total  ignorance  of  the  state  of  affairs,  she 
was  at  least  spared  the  humiliation  of  hearing  that  the 
palace  was  for  sale,  and  might  be  sold  any  day,  to  any 
one  who  would  pay  the  price  asked. 

From  time  to  time  the  Baroness  said  she  hoped  that 
Sabina  had  good  news  of  her  mother,  but  showed  no  curi 
osity  in  the  matter,  and  the  girl  always  answered  that  she 
believed  her  mother  to  be  quite  well.  Indeed  she  did 
believe  it,  for  she  supposed  that  if  the  Princess  were 
ill  some  one  would  let  her  know.  She  wrote  stiff  little 
letters  herself,  every  Sunday  morning,  and  addressed 
them  to  her  uncle's  place  in  Poland  ;  but  no  one  ever 
took  the  least  notice  of  these  conscientious  communica 
tions,  and  she  wondered  why  she  sent  them,  after  all. 
It  was  a  remnant  of  the  sense  of  duty  to  her  parents 
instilled  into  her  in  the  convent,  and  she  could  not  help 
clinging  to  it  still,  from  habit. 

She  had  a  few  friends  of  her  own  age,  and  they  came 
to  see  her  now  and  then.  They  were  mostly  companions 
of  her  recent  convent  days,  and  they  asked  her  many 
questions,  to  most  of  which  she  had  no  answer.  She 
noticed  that  they  looked  surprised,  but  they  were  well 
brought  up  girls,  and  kept  their  reflections  to  themselves, 
until  they  were  at  home. 

The  Conti  had  fewer  near  relations  than  most  Roman 
families,  for  of  late  they  had  not  been  numerous.  The 
Prince's  only  sister  had  died  childless,  the  dowager 
Princess  was  a  Pole,  and  her  daughter-in-law  was  a 
Tuscan.  Sabina  and  her  generation  had  therefore  no 


38  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

first  cousins  ;  and  those  who  were  one  degree  or  more 
removed  were  glad  that  they  had  not  been  asked  to 
take  charge  of  the  girl  after  the  catastrophe.  It  would 
have  been  all  very  well  merely  to  give  her  a  room  and 
a  place  at  table,  but  the  older  ones  shook  their  heads, 
and  said  that  before  long  the  Baroness  Yolterra  would 
have  to  dress  her  too,  and  give  her  pocket-money.  Her 
good-for-nothing  brother  would  not  do  anything  for 
her,  if  he  could,  and  the  Princess,  who  was  amusing 
herself  in  Poland,  if  not  in  Paris,  was  capable  of  for 
getting  her  existence  for  a  year  at  a  time. 

.  All  these  things  greatly  enhanced  the  outward  and 
visible  merit  of  the  Volterra  couple,  but  made  Sabina's 
position  daily  less  endurable.  So  the  Baroness  laid  up 
treasures  in  heaven  while  Sabina  unwillingly  stored 
trouble  on  earth. 

She  was  proud,  to  begin  with.  It  was  bad  enough 
to  have  been  ordered  by  her  mother  to  accept  the  hos 
pitality  of  people  she  did  not  like,  but  it  was  almost 
unbearable  to  realize  by  degrees  that  she  was  living  on 
their  effusive  charity.  If  she  had  been  as  vain  as  she 
was  proud,  she  would  probably  have  left  their  house 
to  take  refuge  in  her  sister's  convent,  for  her  vanity 
could  not  have  borne  the  certainty  that  all  society 
knew  what  her  position  was.  "*  The  foundation  of  pride 
is  the  wish  to  respect  oneself,  whatever  others  may 
think ;  the  mainspring  of  vanity  is  the  craving  for  the 
admiration  of  others,  no  matter  at  what  cost  to  one's 
self-respect.  In  the  Conti  family  these  qualities  and 
defects  were  unevenly  distributed,  for  while  pride 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  39 

seemed  to  have  been  left  out  in  the  character  of 
Sabina's  brother,  who  was  vain  and  arrogant,  she  her 
self  was  as  unspoilt  by  vanity  as  she  was  plentifully 
supplied  with  the  characteristic  which  is  said  to  have 
caused  Lucifer's  fall,  but  which  has  been  the  mainstay 
of  many  a  greatly-tempted  man  and  woman.  Perhaps 
what  is  a  fault  in  angels  may  seem  to  be  almost  a  virtue 
in  humanity,  compared  with  the  meanness  of  worse 
failings. 

Sabina  was  not  suspicious,  yet  she  could  not  help 
wondering  why  the  Baroness  had  been  so  very  anxious 
to  take  her  in,  and  sometimes  she  thought  that  the 
object  might  be  to  marry  her  to  one  of  Volterra's  two 
sons.  One  was  in  a  cavalry  regiment  stationed  in 
Turin,  the  other  was  in  the  diplomacy  and  was  now 
in  Washington.  They  were  both  doing  very  well  in 
their  careers  and  their  father  and  mother  often  talked 
of  them. 

The  Baron  was  inclined  to  be  playful  now  and  then. 

"Ah,  my  dear  young  lady,"  he  would  cry,  shaking 
one  fat  finger  at  Sabina  across  the  dinner  table,  "take 
care,  take  care  !  You  will  lose  your  heart  to  both  my 
boys  and  sow  discord  in  my  family  !  " 

At  this  he  never  failed  to  laugh,  and  his  wife  re 
sponded  with  a  smile  of  motherly  pride,  followed  by  a 
discreet  side  glance  at  Sabina's  delicate  face.  Then 
the  finely-pencilled  eyebrows  were  just  the  least  bit 
more  arched  for  a  second,  and  the  slender  neck  grew 
slightly  straighter,  but  that  was  all,  and  the  Baron  did 
not  even  see  the  change.  Sometimes  Sabina  said  noth- 


40  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

ing,  but  sometimes  she  asked  if  the  sons  were  coming 
home  on  leave.  No,  they  were  not  coming  at  present. 
In  the  spring  Volterra  and  his  wife  generally  spent  a 
few  weeks  in  Turin,  to  see  the  elder  son,  on  their  way 
to  Aix  and  Paris,  but  his  brother  could  hardly  expect 
to  come  home  for  another  year.  Then  the  couple  would 
talk  about  both  the  young  men,  until  Sabina's  attention 
wandered,  and  she  no  longer  heard  what  they  were 
saying. 

She  did  not  believe  that  they  really  thought  of  try 
ing  to  marry  her  to  one  of  the  sons.  In  her  own 
opinion  they  could  gain  nothing  by  it;  she  had  no 
dowry  now,  and  her  mother  had  always  talked  of  mar 
riage  as  a  business  transaction.  It  did  not  occur  to 
her  that  they  could  care  to  be  allied  with  a  ruined 
family,  and  that  her  mere  name  could  be  worth  any 
thing  in  their  scale  of  values.  They  were  millionaires, 
of  course,  and  even  the  dowry  which  she  might  for 
merly  have  expected  would  have  been  nothing  com 
pared  with  their  fortune ;  but  her  mother  had  always 
said  that  rich  people  were  the  very  people  who  cared 
the  most  for  money.  That  was  the  reason  why  they 
were  rich.  This  explanation  was  so  logical  that  Sabina 
had  accepted  it  as  the  true  one. 

Her  knowledge  of  the  world  was  really  limited  to 
what  she  had  learned  from  her  mother,  after  she  had 
come  back  from  the  convent  six  months  before  the 
crash,  and  it  was  an  odd  mixture  of  limitations  and 
exaggerations.  When  the  Princess  was  in  a  good 
humour  she  believed  in  everybody ;  when  she  was  not, 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  41 

which  was  when  she  had  no  money  to  throw  away,  she 
attributed  the  basest  motives  to  all  mankind.  Accord 
ing  to  her  moods,  she  had  encouraged  Sabina  to  look 
forward  to  a  life  of  perpetual  pleasure,  or  had  assured 
her  with  energy  that  all  men  were  liars,  and  that  the 
world  was  a  wretched  place  after  all.  It  was  true  that 
the  Princess  entertained  the  cheerful  view  more  often 
than  not,  which  was  perhaps  fortunate  for  her  daugh 
ter  ;  but  in  her  heart  the  young  girl  felt  that  she  would 
have  to  rely  on  her  own  common  sense  to  form  any 
opinion  of  life,  and  as  her  position  became  more  diffi 
cult,  while  the  future  did  not  grow  more  defined,  she 
tried  to  think  connectedly  about  it  all,  and  to  reach 
some  useful  conclusion. 

It  was  not  easy.  In  her  native  city,  living  under 
the  roof  of  people  who  held  a  strong  position  in  the 
society  to  which  she  belonged,  though  they  had  not 
been  born  to  it,  she  was  as  completely  isolated  as  if  she 
had  been  suddenly  taken  away  and  set  down  amongst 
strangers  in  Australia.  She  was  as  lonely  as  she  could 
have  been  on  a  desert  island. 

The  Volterra  couple  were  radically,  constitutionally, 
congenitally  different  from  the  men  and  women  she 
had  seen  in  her  mother's  house.  She  could  not  have 
told  exactly  where  the  difference  lay,  for  she  was  too 
young,  and  perhaps  too  simple.  She  did  not  instinc 
tively  like  them,  but  she  had  never  really  felt  any 
affection  for  her  mother  either,  and  her  own  brother 
and  sister  had  always  repelled  her.  Her  mother  had 
sometimes  treated  her  like  a  toy,  but  more  often  as  a 


42  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

nuisance  and  a  hindrance  in  life,  to  be  kept  out  of  the 
way  as  much  as  possible,  and  married  off  on  the  first 
opportunity.  Yet  Sabina  knew  that  far  down  in  her 
nature  there  was  a  mysterious  tie  of  some  sort,  an  in 
tuition  that  often  told  her  what  her  mother  would  say 
or  do,  though  she  herself  would  have  spoken  and  acted 
otherwise.  She  had  felt  it  even  with  her  brother  and 
sister,  but  she  could  not  feel  it  at  all  with  the  Baron 
or  his  wife.  She  never  could  guess  what  they  might 
do  or  say  under  the  most  ordinary  circumstances,  nor 
what  things  they  would  like  and  dislike,  nor  how  they 
would  regard  anything  she  said  or  did ;  least  of  all 
could  she  understand  why  they  were  so  anxious  to 
keep  her  with  them. 

It  was  all  a  mystery,  but  life  itself  was  mysterious, 
and  she  was  little  more  than  a  child  in  years  though  she 
had  never  had  what  one  calls  a  real  childhood. 

She  often  used  to  sit  by  her  window,  the  sliding 
blinds  partly  drawn  together,  but  leaving  a  space 
through  which  she  could  look  down  at  the  city,  with  a 
glimpse  of  Saint  Peter's  in  the  distance  against  the 
warm  haze  of  the  low  Campagna.  Rome  seemed  as  far 
from  her  then  as  if  she  saw  it  in  a  vision  a  thousand 
miles  away,  and  the  very  faint  sounds  from  the  distance 
were  like  voices  in  a  dream.  Then,  if  she  closed  her 
eyes  a  moment,  she  could  see  the  dark  streets  about  the 
Palazzo  Conti,  and  the  one  open  corner  of  the  palace, 
high  up  in  the  sunlight ;  she  could  smell  the  acrid  air 
that  used  to  come  up  to  her  in  the  early  morning  when 
the  panes  were  opened,  damp  and  laden  with  odours  not 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  43 

sweet  but  familiar  in  the  heart  of  Rome ;  odours  com 
pounded  of  cabbages,  stables,  cheese  and  mud,  and 
occasionally  varied  by  the  fumes  of  roasting  coffee,  or 
the  sour  vapours  from  a  wine  cart  that  was  unloading 
stained  casks,  all  wet  with  red  juice,  at  the  door  of  the 
wine  shop  far  below,  a  dark  little  wine  shop  with  a  dry 
bush  stuck  out  through  a  smoky  little  grated  window, 
and  a  humble  sign  displaying  the  prices  of  drink  in 
roughly  painted  blue  and  red  figures.  For  her  room 
had  looked  upon  the  narrowest  and  darkest  of  the 
streets,  though  it  had  been  stately  enough  within,  and 
luxuriously  furnished,  besides  containing  some  objects 
of  value  and  beauty  over  which  there  would  be  much 
bidding  and  squabbling  of  amateurs  and  experts  when 
the  great  sale  took  place. 

It  had  been  gloomy  and  silent  and  loveless,  the  life 
down  there ;  and  yet  she  would  have  gone  back  to  it  if 
she  could,  from  the  sunshine  of  the  Via  Ludovisi,  and 
from  the  overpowering  freshness  of  the  Volterra- house, 
where  everything  was  modern,  and  polished,  and  var 
nished,  and  in  perfect  condition,  suggesting  that  things 
had  been  just  paid  for.  She  had  not  liked  the  old  life, 
but  she  liked  her  present  surroundings  even  less,  and 
at  times  she  felt  a  furious  longing  to  leave  them  sud 
denly,  without  warning ;  to  go  out  when  no  one  would 
notice  her,  and  never  to  come  back ;  to  go  she  knew 
not  where,  out  into  the  world,  risking  she  knew  not 
what,  a  high-born,  penniless,  fair-haired  girl  not  yet 
eighteen. 

What  would  happen,  if  she  did  ?     She  rarely  laughed, 


44  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

but  she  would  laugh  at  that,  when  she  thought  of  the 
consternation  her  flight  would  produce.  How  puzzled 
the  fat  Baron  would  look,  how  the  Baroness's  thin  mouth 
would  be  drawn  down  at  the  corners  !  How  the  invis 
ible  silk  bellows  would  puff  as  she  ran  up  and  down 
stairs,  searching  the  house  for  Sabina ! 

There  was  more  than  one  strain  of  wild  blood  in  the 
delicate  girl's  veins,  and  the  spring  had  come  suddenly, 
with  a  bursting  out  of  blossom  and  life  and  colour,  and 
a  twittering  of  nesting  birds  in  the  old  gardens,  and  a 
rush  of  strange  longings  in  her  heart. 

Then  Sabina  told  herself  that  there  was  nothing  to 
keep  her  where  she  was,  but  her  own  will,  and  that  no 
one  would  really  care  what  became  of  her  in  the  wide 
world ;  certainly  not  her  mother,  who  had  never  written 
her  so  much  as  a  line,  nor  sent  her  a  message,  since  they 
had  parted  on  the  day  of  the  catastrophe  ;  certainly  not 
her  brother ;  probably  not  even  her  sister,  whose  whole 
being  was  absorbed  in  the  tyrannical  government  of 
what  she  called  her  soul.  Sabina,  in  her  thoughts, 
irreverently  compared  Clementina's  soul  to  a  race-horse, 
and  her  sister  to  a  jockey,  riding  it  cruelly  with  whip 
and  spur  to  the  goal  of  salvation,  whether  it  liked  it 
or  not. 

Sabina  rose  from  her  seat  by  the  window,  when  she 
thought  of  liberty,  and  she  walked  up  and  down  her 
room,  driven  by  something  she  could  not  understand, 
and  yet  withheld  by  something  she  understood  even 
less.  For  it  was  not  fear,  nor  reflection,  nor  even  com 
mon  sense  nor  the  thought  of  giving  pain  to  any  one 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  45 

that  hindered  her  from  leaving  the  house  at  such  mo 
ments.  It  was  not  even  the  memory  of  the  one  human 
being  who  had  hitherto  loved  her,  and  for  whom  she 
had  felt  affection  and  gratitude, —  one  of  the  nuns  at  the 
convent  school,  a  brave,  quiet  little  lady  who  made  her 
believe  in  good.  She  meant  to  do  no  harm  if  she  were 
free,  and  the  nun  would  not  really  blame  her,  if  she 
knew  the  truth. 

It  was  not  that.  It  was  the  secret  conviction  that 
there  was  harm  in  the  world  from  which  mere  courage 
could  not  protect  her ;  it  was  the  sort  of  instinct  that 
warns  young  animals  not  to  eat  plants  that  are  poison 
ous;  it  was  the  maiden  intuition  of  a  strange  and 
unknown  danger. 

She  sat  down  again  disconsolately.  It  was  absurd, 
of  course,  and  she  could  not  run  away.  Where  could 
she  go?  She  had  no  money,  and  she  would  have  to 
starve  or  beg  before  one  day  was  out.  She  would  be 
homeless,  she  would  be  driven  to  some  house  of  charity, 
for  a  meal  and  a  place  to  sleep,  or  else  to  sleep  out  under 
the  sky.  That  would  be  delightful  for  once.  She  had 
always  longed  to  sleep  out  of  doors,  to  feel  the  breeze 
playing  with  her  feathery  hair  in  the  dark,  to  watch  the 
constellations  turning  slowly  westwards,  to  listen  to  the 
night  sounds,  to  the  low  rhythmical  piping  of  the  tree 
toad,  the  sorrowful  cry  of  the  little  southern  owl  and 
the  tolling  of  the  hour  in  a  far-off  belfry. 

But  it  might  rain.  At  the  idea,  Sabina  laughed 
again.  It  would  be  very  unpleasant  to  be  caught  in  a 
shower  while  napping  on  a  bench  in  a  public  garden. 


46  THE  HEART   OF   EOME 

Besides,  if  the  policemen  found  her  there,  an  extremely 
young  lady,  extremely  well  dressed  but  apparently  be 
longing  to  no  one,  they  would  in  all  likelihood  ask  her 
name,  and  she  would  have  to  tell  them  who  she  was ; 
and  then  she  would  be  brought  back  to  Baron  Volterra's 
house,  unless  they  thought  it  more  prudent  to  take  her 
to  a  lunatic  asylum. 

At  that  stage  in  her  imaginings  it  was  generally 
time  to  go  out  with  the  Baroness  for  the  daily  drive, 
which  began  with  the  leaving  of  cards  and  notes,  then 
led  to  the  country  or  one  of  the  villas,  and  generally 
ended  in  a  turn  or  two  through  the  Corso  before 
coming  home.  The  worst  part  of  the  daily  round 
was  dinner  when  the  Baron  was  at  home.  It  was 
then  that  she  felt  most  strongly  the  temptation  to 
slip  out  of  the  house  and  never  to  come  back.  Often, 
however,  he  and  his  wife  dined  out,  and  then  Sabina 
was  served  alone  by  two  solemn  men-servants,  so  ex 
tremely  correct  that  they  reminded  her  a  little  of  her 
old  home.  These  were  the  pleasantest  evenings  she 
spent  during  that  spring,  for  when  dinner  was  over 
she  was  free  to  go  to  her  own  room  and  curl  herself 
up  in  a  big  armchair  with  a  book,  and  read  or  dream 
till  bedtime,  as  she  pleased. 

When  she  was  alone,  her  life  seemed  less  objectless,  less 
inexplicably  empty,  less  stupidly  incomprehensible,  less 
lonely  than  in  the  company  of  those  excellent  people 
with  whom  she  had  nothing  in  common,  but  to  whom 
she  felt  that  she  was  under  a  great  obligation.  In 
thsir  company,  it  was  as  if  her  life  had  stopped  sud- 


THE  HEAKT   OF   ROME  47 

denly  at  the  beginning  and  was  never  to  go  on  again, 
as  if  she  had  stuck  fast  like  a  fly  in  a  drop  of  amber, 
as  if  nothing  of  interest  could  ever  happen  to  her 
though  she  might  live  a  hundred  years. 

She  could  hardly  remember  anything  which  had 
given  her  great  pleasure.  She  did  not  remember  to 
have  been  ever  radiantly  happy,  though  she  could  not 
recall  much  unhappiness  since  she  had  left  the  convent 
school.  The  last  thing  that  had  really  hurt  her  had 
been  the  death  of  her  pet  canary,  and  she  had  kept  her 
feelings  to  herself  as  well  as  she  could,  with  the  old 
aristocratic  instinct  of  hiding  pain. 

It  was  all  idle  and  strangely  empty,  and  yet  hard  to 
understand.  She  would  have  been  much  surprised  if 
she  could  have  guessed  how  much  its  emptiness  inter 
ested  other  people  in  Rome ;  how  the  dowagers  chat 
tered  about  her  over  their  tea,  abusing  her  mother  and 
all  her  relations  for  abandoning  her  like  a  waif ;  how 
the  men  reasoned  about  Baron  Volterra's  deep-la' id 
schemes,  trying  to  make  out  that  his  semi-adoption 
of  Sabina,  as  they  called  it,  must  certainly  bode  ruin 
to  some  one,  since  he  had  never  in  his  life  done  any 
thing  without  a  financial  object ;  how  the  young  girls 
unanimously  declared  that  the  Baroness  wanted  Sabina 
for  one  of  her  sons,  because  she  was  such  a  dreadful 
snob ;  how  Cardinal  Delia  Crusca  shook  his  wise  old 
head  knowingly,  as  he,  who  knew  so  much,  always  did 
on  the  rare  occasions  when  he  knew  nothing  about  the 
matter  in  hand ;  how  a  romantic  young  English  secre 
tary  of  Embassy  christened  her  the  Princess  in  the 


48  THE   HEART   OF   EOME 

Tower;  and  how  old  Pompeo  Sassi  went  up  to  his 
vineyard  on  Monte  Mario  every  Sunday  and  Thursday 
and  sat  almost  all  the  afternoon  under  the  chestnut- 
tree  thinking  about  her  and  making  unpractical  plans 
of  his  own. 


CHAPTER  IV 

IF  Baron  Volterra  did  not  choose  to  sell  the  Palazzo 
Conti  to  the  first  comer,  he  doubtless  knew  his  own 
business  best,  and  he  was  not  answerable  to  every  one 
for  his  opinion  that  the  fine  old  building  was  worth  a 
good  deal  more  than  the  highest  offer  he  had  yet  re 
ceived.  Everybody  knew  that  the  palace  was  for  sale, 
and  some  of  the  attempts  made  to  buy  it  were  openly 
discussed.  A  speculator  had  offered  four  hundred 
thousand  francs  for  it,  a  rich  South  American  had 
offered  half  a  million;  it  was  rumoured  that  the 
Vatican  would  give  five  hundred  and  fifty  thousand, 
provided  that  the  timbers  of  the  carved  ceilings  were 
in  good  condition,  but  Volterra  steadily  refused  to 
allow  any  of  the  carvings  to  be  disturbed  in  order  to 
examine  the  beams.  During  several  days  a  snuffy 
little  man  with  a  clever  face  poked  about  with  a  light 
in  dark  places  between  floors,  trying  to  find  out 
whether  the  wood  were  sound  or  rotten,  and  asking 
all  sorts  of  questions  of  the  old  porter,  and  of  two 
workmen  who  went  with  him,  and  who  had  been  em 
ployed  in  repairs  in  the  palace,  as  their  fathers  had 
been  before  them,  perhaps  for  generations.  But  their 
answers  were  never  quite  satisfactory,  and  the  snuffy 
man  disappeared  to  the  mysterious  regions  beyond  the 

Tiber,  and  did  not  come  back. 

E  49 


50  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

Some  people,  knowing  the  ways  of  the  Romans, 
might  have  inferred  that  the  two  workmen,  a  mason 
and  a  carpenter,  had  not  been  treated  by  Baron  Vol- 
terra  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  them  give  a  favourable 
report  ;  and  as  he  seemed  perfectly  indifferent  about 
the  result  this  is  quite  possible.  At  all  events  the 
carpenter  made  out  that  he  could  not  get  at  the  beams 
in  question,  without  moving  the  decorations  which 
covered  them,  and  the  mason  affirmed  that  it  was 
quite  impossible  to  get  a  view  of  the  foundations  of 
the  north-west  corner  of  the  palace,  which  were  said  to 
be  weak,  without  knocking  a  hole  through  a  wall  upon 
which  depended  such  solidity  as  there  was.  It  was 
useless,  he  said.  The  snuffy  gentleman  could  ask  the 
Baron,  if  he  pleased,  and  the  Baron  could  do  what  he 
liked  since  the  property  now  belonged  to  him :  but  he, 
the  mason,  would  not  lay  hand  to  pick  or  crowbar  with 
out  the  Baron's  express  authorization.  The  Baron  was  a 
Senator  of  the  Kingdom,  said  the  mason,  and  could  there 
fore  of  course  send  him  to  penal  servitude  in  the  galleys 
for  life,  if  he  pleased.  That  is  the  average  Roman  work 
man's  idea  of  justice.  The  snuffy  expert,  who  looked 
very  much  like  a  poor  priest  in  plain  clothes,  though 
he  evidently  knew  his  business,  made  no  reply,  nor 
any  attempt  to  help  the  mason's  conscience  with  money. 

But  he  stood  a  little  while  by  the  wall,  with  his 
lantern  in  his  hands,  and  presently  put  his  ear  to  the 
damp  stones,  and  listened. 

"  There  is  running  water  somewhere  not  far  off,"  he 
said,  looking  keenly  at  the  workman. 


THE   HEART   OP   ROME  51 

"  It  is  certainly  not  wine,"  answered  the  man,  with  a 
rough  laugh,  for  he  thought  it  a  very  good  joke. 

"  Are  there  any  4  lost  waters  '  under  the  palace  ?  " 
asked  the  expert. 

"I  do  not  know,"  replied  the  mason,  looking 
away  from  the  lantern  towards  the  gloom  of  the 
cellars. 

"  I  believe,"  said  the  snuffy  gentleman,  setting  down 
his  lantern,  and  taking  a  large  pinch  from  a  battered 
silver  snuff-box,  on  which  the  arms  of  Pius  Ninth  were 
still  distinguishable,  "  I  believe  that  the  nearest  '  lost 
water'  to  this  place  is  somewhere  under  the  Vicolo 
dei  Soldati." 

"  I  do  not  know." 

The  expert  skilfully  inserted  the  brown  dust  into 
his  nostrils  with  his  right  thumb,  scarcely  wasting  a 
grain  in  the  operation. 

"You  do  not  seem  to  know  much,"  he  observed 
thoughtfully,  and  took  up  his  lantern  again. 

"  I  know  what  I  have  been  taught,"  replied  the  mason 
without  resentment. 

The  expert  glanced  at  him  quickly,  but  said  nothing 
more.  His  inspection  was  finished,  and  he  led  the  way 
out  of  the  intricate  cellars  as  if  he  knew  them  by  heart, 
though  he  had  only  passed  through  them  once,  and  he 
left  the  palace  on  foot  when  he  had  brushed  some  of 
the  dust  from  his  shabby  clothes. 

The  porter  looked  enquiringly  at  the  two  men,  as 
they  filled  little  clay  pipes  that  had  cane  stems,  stand 
ing  under  the  deep  entrance. 


52  THE   HEART   OF  ROME 

"  Not  even  the  price  of  half  a  litre  of  wine,"  said  the 
mason  in  answer  to  the  mute  question. 

"  Church  stuff,"  observed  the  carpenter  discontentedly. 

The  porter  nodded  gravely,  and  the  men  nodded  to 
him  as  they  went  out  into  the  street.  They  had  noth 
ing  more  to  do  that  day,  and  they  turned  into  the  dark 
little  wine  shop,  where  the  withered  bush  stuck  out  of 
the  blackened  grating.  They  sat  down  opposite  each 
other,  with  the  end  of  the  grimy  board  of  the  table  be 
tween  them,  and  the  carpenter  made  a  sign.  The  host 
brought  a  litre  measure  of  thin  red  wine  and  set  it  down 
between  them  with  two  tumblers.  He  was  ghastly  pale, 
flabby  and  sullen,  with  a  quarter  of  an  inch  of  stubbly 
black  beard  on  his  unhealthy  face. 

The  carpenter  poured  a  few  drops  of  wine  into  one  of 
the  tumblers,  shook  it  about,  turned  it  into  the  other, 
shook  it  again,  and  finally  poured  it  on  the  unctuous 
stone  floor  beside  him.  Then  he  filled  both  glasses  to 
the  brim,  and  both  men  drank  in  silence. 

They  repeated  the  operation,  and  after  the  second 
glass  there  was  not  much  left  in  the  measure.  The 
flabby  host  had  retired  to  the  gloomy  vaults  within, 
where  he  played  cards  with  a  crony  by  the  light  of  a 
small  smoking  lamp  with  a  cracked  chimney. 

"That  was  the  very  place,  was  it  not?"  asked  the 
carpenter  at  last,  in  a  low  tone,  and  almost  without 
moving  his  lips. 

The  mason  said  nothing,  but  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
in  a  sort  of  enigmatic  assent.  Both  drank  again,  and 
after  a  long  time  the  carpenter  smiled  faintly. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  53 

"  He  was  looking  for  the  4  lost  water,'  "  he  said,  in  a 
tone  of  contempt. 

The  faint  smile  slowly  reflected  itself  in  the  mason's 
face.  The  two  finished  their  wine,  lit  their  pipes  again, 
left  the  price  of  their  drink  on  the  table  without  dis 
turbing  the  host  and  went  away. 

So  far  as  any  outsider  could  have  judged,  the  expert's 
curiosity  and  the  few  words  exchanged  by  the  work 
men  referred  to  the  so-called  "  lost  water,"  which  might 
be  somewhere  under  the  north-west  corner  of  the  Pa 
lazzo  Conti,  and  no  one  unacquainted  with  subterranean 
Rome  could  possibly  have  understood  what  any  of  the 
three  meant. 

The  "  lost  waters "  of  Rome  are  very  mysterious. 
Here  and  there,  under  old  streets  and  far  down  amongst 
the  foundations  of  ancient  palaces,  there  are  channels 
of  running  water  which  have  no  apparent  connection 
with  any  of  the  aqueducts  now  restored  and  in  use.  It 
is  a  water  that  comes  no  one  knows  whence  and  finds 
its  way  to  the  Tiber,  no  one  knows  how.  It  is  gener 
ally  clear  and  very  cold,  and  in  the  days  when  the  aque 
ducts  were  all  broken  and  most  people  drank  of  the 
river,  the  "  lost  water  "  was  highly  prized.  It  appears 
in  the  most  unexpected  places,  sometimes  in  great  quan 
tities  and  seriously  interfering  with  any  attempt  to  lay 
the  foundations  of  a  new  building,  sometimes  black  and 
silent,  under  a  huge  flagstone  in  an  old  courtyard,  some 
times  running  with  an  audible  rush  through  hidden 
passages  deeper  than  the  deepest  cellars.  It  has  puz 
zled  archaeologists,  hydraulic  engineers  and  architects 


54  THE   HEART   OF   KOME 

for  generations,  its  presence  has  never  been  satisfac 
torily  explained,  there  seems  not  to  be  any  plan  of  the 
city  which  shows  its  whereabouts,  and  the  modern  im 
provements  of  the  Tiber's  banks  do  not  appear  to  have 
affected  its  occult  courses.  By  tradition  handed  down 
from  father  to  son,  certain  workmen,  chiefly  masons 
and  always  genuine  Romans,  claim  to  know  more  about 
it  than  other  people ;  but  that  is  as  much  as  can  be  said. 
It  is  known  as  the  "  lost  water,"  and  it  rises  and  falls, 
and  seeks  different  levels  in  unaccountable  ways,  as 
water  will  when  it  is  confined  under  the  earth  but  is 
here  and  there  confronted  by  the  pressure  of  the  air. 

But  though  the  old-fashioned  Roman  workman  still 
looks  upon  all  traditional  information  about  his  trade 
as  secret  and  never  to  be  revealed,  that  fact  alone  might 
seem  insufficient  to  account  for  the  behaviour  of  Gigi 
the  carpenter  and  of  Toto  the  mason  under  the  particu 
lar  circumstances  here  narrated,  still  less  for  the  con 
tempt  they  showed  for  the  snuffy  expert  who  was 
apparently  looking  for  the  "  lost  water. "  An  invisible 
witness  would  have  gathered  that  they  had  something 
of  more  importance  to  conceal.  To  the  expert,  their 
conduct  and  answers  must  have  been  thoroughly  un 
satisfactory,  for  the  Vatican  was  even  said  to  have 
refused  to  pay  the  additional  fifty  thousand  francs,  on 
the  ground  that  the  state  of  the  foundations  was  doubt 
ful  and  that  the  timbers  of  the  upper  story  were  not 
sound. 

Baron  Vol terra's  equanimity  was  not  in  the  least  dis 
turbed  by  this.  On  the  contrary,  instead  of  setting  the 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  55 

price  lower,  he  frankly  told  all  applicants,  through  his 
agent,  that  he  was  in  no  hurry  to  sell,  as  he  had  reason 
to  believe  that  the  land  about  the  Palazzo  Conti  would 
soon  rise  in  value.  He  had  settled  with  the  represen 
tatives  of  the  Conti  family,  and  it  was  said  that  he  had 
behaved  generously.  The  family  had  nothing  left  after 
the  crash,  which  might  partially  account  for  such  an 
exhibition  of  generosity ;  but  it  was  hinted  that  Baron 
Volterra  had  given  them  the  option  of  buying  back  the 
palace  and  some  other  property  upon  which  he  had 
foreclosed,  if  they  should  be  able  to  pay  for  it  in  ten 
years. 

Soon  after  the  visit  of  the  snuffy  expert,  Volterra's 
agent  informed  the  porter  that  a  gentleman  had  taken 
the  small  apartment  on  the  intermediate  story,  which 
had  formerly  been  occupied  by  a  chaplain  but  had  been 
disused  for  years.  It  had  been  part  of  the  Conti's  folly 
that  they  had  steadily  refused  to  let  any  part  of  the 
vast  building  since  the  old  Prince's  death. 

On  the  following  day,  the  new-comer  moved  in,  with 
his  belongings,  consisting  of  a  small  quantity  of  new 
furniture,  barely  sufficient  for  himself  and  his  one  ser 
vant,  and  a  number  of  very  heavy  cases,  which  turned  out 
to  be  full  of  books.  Gigi,  the  carpenter,  was  at  once 
sent  for  to  put  up  plain  shelves  for  these,  and  he  took 
stock  of  the  lodger  while  the  latter  was  explaining  what 
he  wanted. 

"He  is  a  gentleman,"  said  Gigi  to  Toto,  that  very 
evening,  as  they  stood  filling  their  pipes  at  the  corner 
of  the  Vicolo  dei  Soldati.  "  His  name  is  Malipieri. 


56  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

He  is  as  black  as  the  horses  at  a  funeral  of  the  first- 
class,  and  he  is  not  a  Roman." 

"  Who  knows  what  race  of  animal  this  may  be  ?  " 
Toto  was  not  in  a  good  humour. 

"  He  is  of  the  race  of  gentlemen,"  asserted  Gigi 
confidently. 

"Then  he  will  end  badly,"  observed  Toto.  "Let 
us  go  and  drink.  It  is  better." 

"  Let  us  go  and  drink,"  repeated  Gigi.  "  ^ou  have 
a  sensible  thought  sometimes.  I  think  this  man  is  an 
engineer,  or  an  architect.  He  wants  a  draughtsman's 
table." 

"Evil  befall  his  little  dead  ones,  whatever  he  is," 
returned  the  other,  by  way  of  welcome  to  the  young 
man  who  had  moved  into  the  palace. 

"  He  advanced  me  ten  francs  to  buy  wood  for  the 
shelves,"  said  Gigi,  who  was  by  far  the  more  cheerful 
of  the  two. 

"  Come  and  drink,"  returned  Toto,  relevantly  or 
irrelevantly.  "  That  is  much  better." 

So  they  turned  into  the  wine  shop. 


CHAPTER  V 

BARON  VOLTERRA  introduced  Marino  Malipieri  to 
the  two  ladies.  The  guest  had  come  punctually,  for 
the  Baron  had  looked  at  his  watch  a  moment  before 
he  was  announced,  and  it  was  precisely  eight  o'clock. 

Malipieri  bowed  to  the  Baroness,  who  held  out  her 
hand  cordially,  and  then  to  Sabina. 

"  Donna  Sabina  Conti,"  said  the  Baron  with  extreme 
distinctness,  in  order  that  his  guest  should  be  quite 
sure  of  the  young  girl's  identity. 

Sabina  looked  down  modestly,  as  the  nuns  had  told 
her  to  do  when  a  young  man  was  introduced  to  her. 
At  the  same  moment  Malipieri's  eyes  turned  quietly 
and  quickly  to  the  Baron,  and  a  look  of  intelligence 
passed  between  the  two  men.  Malipieri  understood 
that  Sabina  was  one  of  the  family  in  whose  former 
palace  he  was  living.  Then  he  glanced  again  at  the 
young  girl  for  one  moment,  before  making  a  common 
place  remark  to  the  Baroness,  and  after  that  Sabina 
felt  that  she  was  at  liberty  to  look  at  him. 

She  saw  a  very  dark  man  of  average  height,  with 
short  black  hair  that  grew  rather  far  back  from  his 
very  white  forehead,  and  wearing  a  closely  clipped 
black  beard  and  moustache  which  did  not  by  any 
means  hide  the  firm  lines  of  the  mouth  and  chin. 

57 


58  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

From  the  strongly  marked  eyebrows  downward  his 
face  was  almost  of  the  colour  of  newly  cast  bronze, 
and  the  dusky  hue  contrasted  oddly  with  the  clear 
whiteness  of  his  forehead.  He  was  evidently  a  man 
who  had  lately  been  living  much  out  of  doors  under 
a  burning  sun.  Sabina  thought  that  his  very  bright 
black  eyes  and  boldly  curved  features  suggested  a 
young  hawk,  and  he  had  a  look  of  compact  strength 
and  a  way  of  moving  which  betrayed  both  great 
energy  and  extreme  quickness. 

But  there  was  something  more,  which  Sabina  recog 
nized  at  the  first  glance.  She  felt  instantly  that  he 
was  not  like  the  Baron  and  his  wife  ;  that  he  belonged 
in  some  way  to  the  same  variety  of  humanity  as  her 
self  ;  that  she  would  understand  him  when  he  spoke, 
that  she  would  often  feel  intuitively  what  he  was 
going  to  say  next,  and  that  he  would  understand  her. 

She  listened  while  he  talked  to  the  Baroness.  He 
had  a  slight  Venetian  accent,  but  his  voice  had  not 
the  soft  Venetian  ring.  It  was  a  little  veiled,  and 
though  not  at  all  loud  it  was  somewhat  harsh.  Sabina 
did  not  dislike  the  manly  tone,  though  it  was  not 
musical,  nor  the  Venetian  pronunciation,  although  that 
was  unfamiliar.  In  countries  like  Italy  and  Germany, 
which  have  had  many  centres  and  many  historical 
capital  cities,  almost  all  educated  people  speak  with 
the  accents  of  their  several  origins,  and  are  rather 
tenacious  of  the  habit  than  anxious  to  get  rid  of  it, 
generally  maintaining  that  their  own  pronunciation  is 
the  right  one. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  59 

"  Signer  Malipieri,"  said  the  Baron  to  Sabina,  as 
they  went  in  to  dinner,  "is  the  celebrated  archseolo- 
gist." 

"  Yes,"  Sabina  answered,  as  if  she  knew  all  about 
him,  though  she  had  never  heard  him  mentioned. 

Malipieri  probably  overheard  the  Baron's  speech, 
but  he  took  no  notice  of  it.  At  dinner,  he  seemed 
inclined  to  be  silent.  The  Baron  asked  him  questions 
about  his  discoveries,  to  which  he  gave  rather  short 
answers,  but  Sabina  gathered  that  he  had  found  some 
thing  extraordinary  in  Carthage.  She  did  not  know 
where  Carthage  was,  and  did  not  like  to  ask,  but  she 
remembered  that  Marius  had  sat  there  among  some 
ruins.  Perhaps  Malipieri  had  found  his  bones,  for  no 
one  had  ever  told  her  that  Marius  did  not  continue  to 
sit  among  the  ruins  to  his  dying  day.  She  connected 
him  vaguely  with  ^Eneas  and  another  person  called 
Regulus.  It  was  all  rather  uncertain. 

What  she  saw  clearly  was  that  the  Baron  wished  to 
make  Malipieri  feel  at  his  ease,  but  that  Malipieri's 
idea  of  being  at  his  ease  was  certainly  not  founded  on 
a  wish  to  talk  about  himself.  So  the  conversation 
languished  for  some  time. 

The  Baroness,  who  knew  about  as  much  about 
Carthage  as  Sabina,  made  a  few  disconnected  remarks, 
interspersed  with  laudatory  allusions  to  the  young 
man's  immense  learning,  for  she  wished  to  please  her 
husband,  though  she  had  not  the  slightest  idea  why 
Malipieri  was  asked  to  dinner.  Finding  that  he  was 
not  perceptibly  flattered  by  what  she  said,  she  began 


60  THE   HEART    OF   ROME 

to  talk  about  the  Venetian  aristocracy,  for  she  knew 
that  his  name  was  historical,  and  she  recognized  in 
him  at  once  the  characteristics  of  the  nobility  she 
worshipped.  Malipieri  smiled  politely,  and  in  answer 
to  a  direct  question  admitted  that  his  mother  had  been 
a  Gradenigo. 

The  Baroness  was  delighted  at  this  information. 

"  To  think,"  she  said,  "  that  by  a  mere  accident  you 
and  Donna  Sabina  should  meet  here,  the  descendants  of 
two  of  the  oldest  families  of  the  Italian  aristocracy  !  " 

"  I  am  a  republican,"  observed  Malipieri  quietly. 

"  You  !  "  cried  the  Baroness  in  amazement.  "  You, 
the  offspring  of  such  races  as  the  Malipieri  and  the 
Gradenigo  a  republican,  a  socialist,  an  anarchist  !  " 

"  There  is  a  difference,"  said  Malipieri  with  a  smile. 
"  A  republican  is  not  an  anarchist  !  " 

"  I  can  never  believe  it,"  answered  the  Baroness 
solemnly. 

She  ate  a  few  green  peas  and  shook  her  head. 

"  I  went  to  Carthage  because  I  was  condemned  to 
three  years'  confinement  in  prison,"  replied  Malipieri 
with  calm. 

"  Prison  !  "  exclaimed  the  Baroness  in  horror,  and 
she  looked  at  her  husband,  mutely  asking  why  in  the 
world  he  had  brought  a  convict  to  their  table. 

The  Baron  smiled  benignly,  as  he  disposed  of  an 
ample  mouthful  of  green  peas,  before  he  spoke. 

"  Signer  Malipieri,"  he  said,  when  he  had  swallowed 
the  last  one,  "  founded  and  edited  a  republican  news 
paper  in  the  north  of  Italy." 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  61 

"  And  you  were  sent  to  prison  for  that  ? "  asked 
Sabina  with  indignation. 

"  It  is  one  thing  to  send  a  man  to  prison,"  said 
Malipieri.  ult  is  another  to  make  him  go  there.  I 
escaped  to  Switzerland,  and  I  came  back  to  Italy  quite 
lately,  after  the  amnesty." 

"  I  am  amazed  !  "  The  Baroness  looked  at  the  ser 
vants  timidly,  as  if  she  expected  the  butler  and  the 
footman  to  express  their  disapprobation  of  the  guest. 

"  I  have  left  politics  for  the  present,"  Malipieri  re 
plied,  looking  at  Sabina  and  smiling. 

"Of  course!"  cried  the  Baroness.  "But — " 
she  stopped  short. 

"  My  wife,"  said  the  financier  with  a  grin,  "is  afraid 
you  have  dynamite  about  you." 

"  How  absurd  !  "  The  Baroness  felt  that  she  was 
ridiculous.  "  But  I  do  not  understand  how  you  can 
be  friends,"  she  added,  glancing  from  her  husband  to 
Malipieri. 

"  We  are  at  least  on  good  terms  of  acquaintance," 
said  the  younger  man  a  little  markedly. 

Sabina  liked  the  speech  and  the  way  in  which  it  was 
spoken. 

"  We  have  a  common  ground  for  it  in  our  interest  in 
antiquities.  Is  it  not  true,  Signer  Malipieri  ?  " 

The  Baron  looked  at  him  and  smiled  again,  as  if 
there  were  a  secret  between  them,  and  Malipieri 
glanced  at  Sabina. 

"  It  is  quite  true,"  he  said  gravely.  "  The  Baron 
has  read  all  I  have  written  about  Carthage." 


62  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

Volterra  possessed  a  sort  of  rough  social  tact,  to 
gether  with  the  native  astuteness  and  great  knowledge 
of  men  which  had  made  him  rich  and  a  Senator.  He 
suddenly  became  voluble  and  led  the  conversation  in  a 
new  direction,  which  it  followed  till  the  end  of  dinner. 

Several  people  came  in  afterwards,  as  often  happened, 
before  the  coffee  was  taken  away.  They  were  chiefly 
men  in  politics,  and  two  of  them  brought  their  wives 
with  them.  They  were  not  the  sort  of  guests  whom 
the  Baroness  preferred,  for  they  were  not  by  any  means 
all  noble  Romans,  but  they  were  of  importance  to  her 
husband  and  she  took  great  pains  to  make  them  wel 
come.  To  one  she  offered  his  favourite  liqueur,  which 
happened  to  be  a  Sicilian  ratafia;  for  another  she  made 
the  Baron  send  for  some  of  those  horribly  coarse  black 
cigars  known  as  Tuscans,  which  some  Italians  prefer  to 
anything  else ;  for  a  third,  she  ordered  fresh  coffee  to 
be  especially  made.  She  took  endless  trouble. 

Malipieri  seemed  to  know  none  of  the  guests,  and 
he  took  advantage  of  the  Baroness's  preoccupation  for 
their  comforts  to  sit  down  by  Sabina.  He  did  not  look 
at  her,  and  she  thought  he  looked  bored,  as  he  sat  a 
moment  in  silence.  Then  a  thin  deputy  with  a  mag 
nificent  forehead  and  thick  grey  hair  began  to  hold 
forth  on  the  subject  of  a  projected  divorce  law  and  the 
guests  gathered  round  him.  Sabina  had  never  heard 
of  Sydney  Smith,  but  she  had  a  suspicion  that  nobody 
could  be  as  great  as  the  speaker  looked.  While  she 
was  thinking  of  this,  Malipieri  spoke  to  her  in  a  low 
voice. 


THE    HEART    OF   KOME  63 

"  I  suppose  that  you  are  stopping  in  the  house,"  he 
said. 

"Yes." 

Sabina  turned  her  eyes  a  little,  but  did  not  look 
straight  at  him.  She  saw,  however,  that  he  was  still 
watching  the  people  in  the  room,  and  still  looked  bored, 
and  she  was  quite  unprepared  for  what  followed. 

"  Are  the  affairs  of  your  family  finally  settled  ?  "  he 
enquired,  without  changing  his  tone. 

Sabina  was  so  much  surprised  that  she  waited  a 
moment  before  answering.  Her  first  instinct  was  to 
ask  him  stiffly  why  he  put  such  a  question,  and  she 
would  have  replied  to  it  in  that  way  if  it  had  come 
from  any  other  guest  in  the  room ;  but  she  changed 
her  mind  almost  instantly. 

"No  one  has  told  me  anything,"  she  said  simply,  in 
a  low  voice. 

Malipieri  turned  his  head  a  little  with  a  quick  move 
ment,  and  clasped  his  brown  hands  over  one  knee. 

"  You  know  nothing  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Nothing  what 
ever  about  the  matter  ?  " 

"Nothing." 

He  bit  his  lip  as  if  he  were  indignant,  and  were  re 
pressing  an  exclamation. 

"  No  one  has  written  to  me  —  for  a  long  time," 
Sabina  said,  after  a  moment. 

She  had  been  on  the  point  of  saying  that  she  had 
never  received  a  line  from  any  member  of  her  family 
since  the  crash,  but  that  seemed  to  sound  like  a  confi 
dence,  and  what  she  really  said  was  quite  true. 


64  THE    HEART    OF   HOME 

44  Has  not  the  Senator  told  you  anything  either  ? " 
Malipieri  asked. 

"  No.  I  suppose  he  does  not  like  to  speak  about  our 
misfortunes  before  me." 

"  Have  you,  I  mean  you  yourself,  any  interest  in 
the  Palazzo  Conti  now?  Can  you  tell  me  that?" 

*4I  know  nothing  —  nothing  !  "  Sabina  repeated  the 
word  with  a  slight  tremor,  for  just  then  she  felt  her 
position  more  keenly  than  ever  before.  "  Why  do  you 
ask?" 

She  could  not  help  putting  the  question  which  rose 
to  her  lips  the  second  time,  but  there  was  no  coldness 
in  her  voice.  She  was  very  lonely,  and  she  felt  that 
Malipieri  was  speaking  from  some  honourable  motive. 

"  I  am  living  in  the  palace,"  Malipieri  answered. 

Sabina  looked  up  quickly,  with  an  expression  of 
interest  in  her  pale  young  face.  The  thought  that 
the  man  beside  her  was  living  in  her  old  home  was 
like  a  bond  of  acquaintance. 

44 Really?"  she  cried.  44In  which  part  of  the 
house?" 

44  Do  not  seem  interested,  please,"  said  Malipieri, 
suddenly  looking  very  bored  again.  44  If  you-  do,  we 
shall  not  be  allowed  to  talk.  I  am  living  in  the  little 
apartment  on  the  intermediate  story.  They  tell  me 
that  a  chaplain  once  lived  there." 

44 1  know  where  it  is,"  answered  Sabina,  44  but  I  was 
never  in  the  rooms.  They  used  to  be  shut  up,  I 
think." 

The  deputy  who  was  haranguing  on  the  subject  of 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  65 

divorce  seemed  to  be  approaching  his  peroration.  His 
great  voice  filled  the  large  room  with  incessant  noise, 
and  everybody  seemed  anxiously  waiting  for  a  chance 
to  contradict  him.  Malipieri  was  in  no  danger  of 
being  overheard. 

"  If  it  happens,"  he  said,  "  that  I  wish  to  communi 
cate  with  you  on  a  matter  of  importance,  how  can  I 
reach  you  best  ?  " 

He  asked  the  question  quite  naturally,  as  if  he  had 
known  Sabina  all  his  life.  At  first  she  was  so  much 
surprised  that  she  could  hardly  speak. 

"I  —  I  do  not  know,"  she  stammered. 

She  had  never  received  letters  from  any  one  but  her 
own  family  or  her  school  friends,  and  a  very  faint 
colour  rose  in  her  pale  cheek.  Malipieri  looked  more 
bored  and  weary  than  ever. 

"  It  may  be  absolutely  necessary  for  me  to  write  to 
you  before  long,"  he  said.  "  Shall  I  write  by  post?  " 

Sabina  hesitated. 

"  Is  there  no  one  in  all  Rome  whom  you  can  trust 
to  bring  a  note  and  give  it  to  you  when  you  are 
alone  ?  " 

"There  is  Signor  Sassi,"  Sabina  answered  almost 
instinctively.  "But  really,  why  should  you  — 

"How  can  I  find  Sassi?"  asked  Malipieri,  interrupt 
ing  the  question.  "  Who  is  he?  " 

"He  was  our  agent.  Is  he  gone?  The  old  porter 
will  know  where  to  find  him.  I  think  he  lived  near 
the  palace.  But  perhaps  the  porter  has  been  sen't 
away  too." 

F 


66  THE  HEART   OF   ROME 

"He  is  still  there.  Have  you  been  made  to  sign 
any  papers  since  you  have  been  here?" 

"No." 

"  Will  you  promise  me  something?  " 

Sabina  could  not  understand  how  it  was  that  a  man 
who  had  been  a  stranger  two  hours  earlier  was  speak 
ing  to  her  almost  as  if  he  were  an  intimate  friend,  still 
less  why  she  no  longer  felt  that  she  ought  to  check 
him  and  assert  her  dignity. 

"If  it  is  right,  I  will  promise  it,"  she  answered 
quietly,  and  looking  down. 

"  It  is  right,"  he  said.  "  If  the  Senator,  or  any  one 
else  asks  you  to  sign  a  paper,  will  you  promise  to  con 
sult  me  before  doing  so?  " 

"  But  I  hardly  know  you  !  "  she  laughed,  a  little 
shyly. 

"  It  is  of  no  use  to  waste  time  and  trouble  on  social 
conventions,"  said  Malipieri.  "If  you  do  not  trust 
me,  can  you  trust  this  Sassi?" 

"  Oh  yes !  " 

"Then  consult  him.  I  will  make  him  consult  me, 
and  it  will  be  the  same  —  and  ten  times  more  conven 
tional  and  proper." 

He  smiled. 

"  Will  you  promise  that?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes.  I  promise.  But  I  wish  you  would  tell  me 
more." 

"  I  wish  I  could.  But  I  hardly  know  you !  "  He 
smiled  again,  as  he  repeated  her  own  words. 

"  Never  mind  that !     Tell  me  !  " 


THE    HEART    OF    ROME  67 

"  No.  I  cannot.  If  there  is  trouble  I  will  tell  you 
everything  —  through  Sassi,  of  course." 

Sabina  laughed,  and  all  at  once  she  felt  as  if  she  had 
known  him  for  years. 

At  that  moment  the  deputy  finished  his  speech,  and 
all  who  had  anything  to  say  in  answer  said  it  at  once, 
in  order  to  lose  no  time,  while  the  speaker  relighted 
his  villainous  black  cigar,  puffing  tremendously. 

The  Baroness  suddenly  remembered  Sabina  and 
Malipieri  in  the  corner,  and  after  screaming  out  several 
incoherent  phrases,  which  might  have  been  taken  for 
applause  or  dissent  and  were  almost  lost  in  the  general 
din,  she  moved  across  the  room. 

"  It  is  atrocious  !  "  she  cried,  as  she  reached  Sabina. 
"  I  hope  you  have  not  heard  a  word  he  said  !  " 

"  When  a  man  has  such  a  voice  as  that,  it  is  impos 
sible  not  to  hear  him,"  said  Malipieri,  rising  and 
answering  before  Sabina  had  time  to  speak. 

Sabina  rose,  too,  rather  reluctantly. 

"  And  of  course  you  agreed  with  everything 
he  said,"  the  Baroness  replied.  "  All  anarchists 
do!" 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  do  not  agree  with  him  at 
all,  and  I  am  really  not  an  anarchist." 

He  smiled  politely,  and  Sabina  noticed  with  an  un 
accountable  little  thrill  of  satisfaction  that  the  smile 
was  quite  different  from  the  one  she  had  seen  in  his 
face  more  than  once  while  they  had  been  talking  to 
gether.  As  for  the  deputy's  discourse,  she  had  not 
heard  a  word  of  it. 


68  THE    HEART    OF    ROME 

The  Baroness  sat  down  on  the  sofa,  and  Sabina 
slipped  away.  She  was  not  supposed  to  be  in  society 
yet,  as  she  was  not  quite  eighteen,  and  there  was  cer 
tainly  no  reason  why  she  should  stay  in  the  drawing- 
room  that  evening,  while  there  were  many  reasons  why 
she  should  go  away.  The  Baroness  breathed  an  audible 
sigh  of  relief  when  she  was  gone,  for  it  was  never  pos 
sible  to  predict  what  some  excited  politician  might  say 
before  her  in  the  heat  of  argument. 

In  the  silence  of  her  own  room  she  sat  down  to 
think  over  the  unexpected  events  of  the  evening. 
Very  young  girls  love  to  look  forward  to  the  mo 
ment  when  they  shall  be  able  to  "  think "  of  what 
has  happened,  after  they  have  met  men  they  are  in 
clined  to  like,  and  who  interest  them.  But  when 
the  time  realty  comes  they  hardly  ever  think  at  all. 
They  see  pictures,  they  hear  voices,  they  feel  again 
what  they  have  felt,  they  laugh,  they  shed  tears  all 
alone,  and  they  believe  they  are  thinking,  or  even 
reasoning.  Their  little  joys  come  back  to  them,  the 
little  triumphs  of  their  vanity,  and  also  all  the  little 
hurts  their  sensitiveness  has  suffered,  and  which  men 
do  not  often  guess  and  still  more  rarely  under 
stand. 

There  must  be  some  original  reason  why  all  boys 
call  girls  silly,  and  all  girls  think  boys  stupid.  It 
must  be  part  of  the  first  manifestation  of  that  enor 
mous  difference  which  exists  between  the  point  of 
view  of  men  and  women  in  after  life. 

Women  are,  in  a  sense,  the  embodiment  of  practice, 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  69 

while  men  are  the  representatives  of  theory.  In 
practice,  in  a  race  for  life,  the  runner  who  jumps 
everything  in  his  way  is  always  right,  unless  he 
breaks  his  neck.  In  theory,  he  is  as  likely  to  break 
his  neck  at  the  first  jump  as  at  the  second,  and  the 
chances  of  his  coming  to  grief  increase  quickly, 
always  in  theory,  as  he  grows  tired.  So  theory  says 
that  it  is  safer  never  to  jump  at  all,  but  to  go  round 
through  the  gates,  or  wade  ignominiously  through 
the  water.  Women  jump ;  men  go  round.  The  dif 
ference  is  everything.  Women  believe  in  what  often 
succeeds  in  practice,  and  they  take  all  risks  and 
sometimes  come  down  with  a  crash.  Men  theorize 
about  danger,  make  elaborate  calculations  to  avoid  it 
and  occasionally  stick  in  the  mud.  When  women 
fall  at  a  stone  wall  they  scream,  when  men  are  stuck 
in  a  bog  they  swear.  The  difference  is  fundamental. 
In  nine  cases  out  of  ten  it  is  the  woman  who  enjoys 
the  ecstatic  delight  of  saying  "I  told  you  so,"  and 
there  are  plenty  of  women  who  would  ask  no  greater 
joy  in  paradise  than  to  say  so  to  their  husbands  for 
ever  and  ever.  Indeed,  eternal  reward  and  punish 
ment  could  thus  be  at  once  combined  and  distributed 
in  a  simple  manner. 

Sabina  took  her  first  fence  that  evening,  for  when 
she  put  out  her  candle  she  was  sure  that  Malipieri 
was  already  her  friend,  and  that  she  could  trust  him 
in  any  emergency.  Moreover,  though  she  would  not 
have  acknowledged  it,  she  inwardly  hoped  that  some 
emergency  might  not  be  far  in  the  future. 


70  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

But  Malipieri  walked  all  the  way  from  the  Via 
Ludovisi  to  the  Palazzo  Conti,  which  is  more  than  a 
mile,  without  noticing  that  he  had  forgotten  to  light 
the  cigar  he  had  taken  out  on  leaving  Volterra's 
house. 


CHAPTER  VI 

MALIPIERI  had  the  Palazzo  Conti  to  himself.  The 
main  entrance  was  always  shut  now,  and  only  a  small 
postern,  cut  in  one  side  of  the  great  door,  was  left 
ajar.  The  porter  loafed  about  in  the  great  court 
with  his  broom  and  his  pipe;  in  the  morning  his 
wife  went  upstairs  and  opened  a  few  windows,  merely 
as  a  formality,  and  late  in  the  afternoon  she  shut 
them  again.  Malipieri's  man  generally  went  out 
twice  every  day,  carrying  a  military  dinner-pail, 
made  in  three  sections,  which  he  brought  back  half 
an  hour  later.  Malipieri  sometimes  was  not  seen  for 
several  days,  but  frequently  he  went  out  in  the 
morning  and  did  not  come  back  till  dark.  Now  and 
then,  things  were  delivered  for  him  at  the  door,  —  a 
tin  of  oil  for  his  lamps,  a  large  box  of  candles,  pack 
ages  of  odd  shapes,  sometimes  very  heavy,  and  which 
the  porter  was  told  to  handle  with  care. 

The  old  man  tried  to  make  acquaintance  with 
Malipieri's  man,  but  found  it  less  easy  than  he  had 
expected.  In  the  first  place,  Masin  came  from  some 
outlandish  part  of  Italy  where  an  abominable  dialect 
was  spoken,  and  though  he  could  speak  school  Italian 
when  he  pleased,  he  chose  to  talk  to  the  porter  in 
his  native  jargon,  when  he  talked  at  all.  He  might 

71 


72  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

just  as  well  have  spoken  Greek.  Secondly,  he  re 
fused  the  porter's  repeated  offers  of  a  litre  at  the 
wine  shop,  always  saying  something  which  sounded 
like  a  reference  to  his  delicate  health.  As  he  was 
evidently  as  strong  as  an  ox,  and  as  healthy  as  a 
savage  or  a  street  dog,  the  excuse  carried  no  convic 
tion.  He  was  a  big,  quiet  fellow,  with  china-blue 
eyes  and  a  reddish  moustache.  The  porter  was  not 
used  to  such  people,  nor  to  servants  who  wore  mous 
taches,  and  was  inclined  to  distrust  the  man.  On 
the  other  hand,  though  Masiu  would  not  drink,  he 
often  gave  the  porter  a  cigar,  with  a  friendly  smile. 
One  day,  in  the  morning,  Baron  Volte rra  came  to 
see  Malipieri,  and  stayed  over  an  hour,  a  part  of 
which  time  the  two  men  spent  in  the  courtyard, 
walking  up  and  down  in  the  north-west  corner,  and 
then  taking  some  measurements  with  a  long  tape 
which  Malipieri  produced  from  his  pocket.  When 
the  Baron  went  away  he  stopped  and  spoke  with  the 
porter.  First  he  gave  him  five  francs;  then  he  in 
formed  him  that  his  wages  would  be  raised  in  future 
by  that  amount;  and  finally  he  told  him  that  Signor 
Malipieri  was  an  architect  and  would  superintend  the 
repairs  necessary  to  the  foundations  at  the  north- west 
corner,  that  while  the  work  was  going  on  even  the 
little  postern  door  was  to  be  kept  shut  all  day,  and 
no  one  was  to  be  admitted  on  any  condition  without 
Signor  Malipieri's  express  permission.  The  fat  Baron 
fixed  his  eyes  on  the  porter's  with  an  oddly  hard 
look,  and  said  that  he  himself  might  come  at  any 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  73 

moment  to  see  how  the  work  was  going  on,  and  that 
if  he  found  anybody  inside  the  gate  without  Signor 
Malipieri's  authority,  it  would  be  bad  for  the  porter. 
During  this  conversation,  Malipieri  stood  listening, 
and  when  it  ended  he  nodded,  as  if  he  were  satisfied, 
and  after  shaking  hands  with  the  Baron  he  went  up 
the  grand  staircase  without  a  word. 

It  was  all  very  mysterious,  and  the  porter  shook  his 
head  as  he  turned  into  his  lodge  after  fastening  the 
postern  ;  but  he  said  nothing  to  his  wife  about  what 
had  passed. 

From  what  he  had  been  told,  he  now  naturally  ex 
pected  that  a  number  of  masons  would  come  in  a  day 
or  two  in  order  to  begin  the  work  of  strengthening  the 
foundations  ;  but  no  one  came,  and  everything  went 
on  as  usual,  except  that  the  postern  was  kept  shut. 
He  supposed  that  Malipieri  was  not  ready,  but  he 
wisely  abstained  from  asking  questions.  Then  Mali 
pieri  asked  him  for  the  address  of  Pompeo  Sassi, 
and  wrote  it  down  in  his  pocket-book,  and  went  out. 
That  was  on  the  morning  after  he  had  dined  at  the 
Baron's  house,  for  it  was  not  his  habit  to  waste  time 
when  he  wanted  information. 

Sassi  received  Malipieri  in  a  little  sitting-room  fur 
nished  with  a  heterogeneous  collection  of  utterly  use 
less  objects,  all  of  which  the  old  agent  treasured  with 
jealous  affection,  and  daily  recommended  to  the  care  of 
the  elderly  woman  who  was  his  only  servant.  The 
sofa  and  chairs  had  been  new  forty  years  ago,  and 
though  the  hideous  red-and-green  stuffs  with  which 


74  THE   HEART    OF    ROME 

they  were  covered  were  still  tolerably  vivid  in  colour, 
the  legs  did  not  look  safe,  and  Malipieri  kept  his  feet 
well  under  him  and  sat  down  cautiously.  Two  rickety 
but  well-dusted  tables  were  loaded  with  ancient  nick- 
nacks,  dating  from  the  early  part  of  the  second  French 
Empire,  with  impossibly  ugly  little  figures  carved  out  of 
cheap  alabaster,  small  decayed  photograph  albums,  and 
ingeniously  bad  wax  flowers  under  glass  shades.  On 
the  walls  hung  bad  lithographs  of  Pius  Ninth,  Napo 
leon  Third  and  Metternich,  with  a  large  faded  photo 
graph  of  old  Prince  Conti  as  a  young  man.  Malipieri 
looked  at  it  curiously,  for  he  guessed  that  it  represented 
Sabina's  father.  The  face  was  clean-shaven,  thin  and 
sad,  with  deep  eyes  and  fair  hair  that  looked  almost 
white  now,  as  if  the  photograph  had  grown  old  with  the 
man,  while  he  had  lived. 

Sassi  sat  down  opposite  his  visitor.  He  wore  a  black 
cloth  cap  with  a  green  tassel,  and  rubbed  his  hands 
slowly  while  he  waited  for  Malipieri  to  speak.  The 
latter  hesitated  a  moment  and  then  went  to  the  point 
at  once. 

"  You  were  the  agent  of  the  Conti  estate  for  many 
years,"  he  said.  "  I  know  the  Senator  Volterra  and 
have  met  Donna  Sabina.  I  understand  that  her  mother 
has  left  her  under  the  charge  of  the  Senator's  wife,  and 
seems  to  have  forgotten  her  existence.  The  young 
lady  is  apparently  without  resources  of  her  own,  and  it 
is  not  clear  what  would  become  of  her  if  the  Volterra 
couple  should  not  find  it  convenient  to  keep  her  with 
them.  Is  that  the  state  of  affairs  ?  " 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  75 

Sassi  nodded  gravely.  Then  he  looked  keenly  at  the 
young  man,  and  asked  him  a  question. 

"  May  I  enquire  why  you  take  an  interest  in  Donna 
Sabina  Conti  ?  " 

Malipieri  returned  the  other's  gaze  quietly. 

44 1  am  an  architect,  called  in  by  the  Senator  to  super 
intend  some  work  on  the  palace.  The  Senator,  as  you 
know,  took  over  the  building  when  he  foreclosed  the 
mortgage,  and  he  has  not  yet  sold  it,  though  he  has 
refused  several  good  offers.  I  have  an  idea  that  h,e 
believes  it  to  be  very  valuable  property.  If  this  should 
turn  out  to  be  true,  and  if  he  should  have  made  a  very 
profitable  transaction,  he  ought  in  honour,  if  not  in  law, 
to  make  over  a  part  of  the  profits  to  Donna  Sabina, 
who  has  practically  been  cheated  of  her  share  in  her 
father's  estate.  Her  mother,  and  her  brother  and 
sister,  spent  everything  they  could  lay  hands  on, 
whereas  she  never  had  anything.  Is  that  true  ?  " 

44  Quite  true,  quite  true,"  repeated  Sassi  sadly. 

"  And  if  Donna  Sabina  were  to  call  them  to  account, 
I  fancy  the  law  would  take  a  rather  unpleasant  view  of 
what  they  did.  I  have  heard  that  sort  of  thing  called 
stealing  when  the  persons  who  did  it  were  not  princes 
and  princesses,  but  plain  people  like  you  and  me.  Do 
you  happen  to  think  of  any  better  word  ?  " 

Sassi  was  silent.  He  had  eaten  the  bread  of  the 
Conti  all  his  life.  He  glanced  at  the  faded  photograph 
of  the  Prince,  as  if  to  explain,  and  Malipieri  under 
stood. 

44  You  are  an  honourable  man,"  he  said.      44 1  can  no 


76  THE   HEART   OF   KOME 

more  tell  you  why  I  wish  to  help  Donna  Sabina  to  her 
rights,  if  she  has  any,  than  I  can  explain  a  great  many 
things  I  have  done  in  my  life.  When  I  see  a  dog 
kicked,  I  always  kick  the  man,  if  I  can,  and  I  do  not 
remember  to  have  regretted  any  momentary  unpleas 
antness  that  has  followed  in  such  cases.  I  have  only 
seen  Donna  Sabina  once,  but  I  mean  to  help  her  if 
possible.  Now  tell  me  this.  Has  she  any  legal  claim 
in  the  value  of  the  palace  or  not  ?  " 

"I  am  afraid  not,"  Sassi  answered. 

"Do  you  know  whether  she  was  ever  induced  to 
sign  any  release  of  her  guardians?" 

"She  never  did." 

"  That  might  be  bad  for  them.  That  is  all  I  wished 
to  know.  Thank  you." 

Malipieri  rose  to  take  his  leave. 

"If  anything  of  importance  happens,  can  you  com 
municate  with  Donna  Sabina  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  can  write  to  her,"  Sassi  answered.  "  I  suppose 
she  would  receive  me  if  I  went  to  the  house." 

"  That  would  be  better." 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  the  old  man,  before  opening  the 
door  to  let  his  visitor  out,  "  am  I  right  in  supposing 
that  the  work  the  Baron  wishes  done  is  connected  with 
the  foundations  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  At  the  north-west  corner  within  the  courtyard  ?  " 

"Yes,"  answered  Malipieri,  looking  at  him  atten 
tively.  "  Do  you  happen  to  know  anything  about  the 
condition  of  that  part  of  the  palace  ?  " 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  77 

"Most  people,"  Sassi  replied,  "have  now  forgotten 
that  a  good  deal  of  work  was  done  there  long  ago, 
under  Pope  Gregory  Sixteenth." 

"Indeed?  I  did  not  know  that.  What  was  the 
result?" 

"The  workmen  came  across  the  'lost  water.'  It 
rose  suddenly  one  day  and  one  of  them  was  drowned. 
I  believe  his  body  was  never  recovered.  Everything 
was  filled  in  again  after  that.  For  my  own  part  I  do 
not  think  the  building  is  in  any  danger." 

"Perhaps  not,"  said  Malipieri,  suddenly  looking 
bored.  "  I  only  carry  out  the  Senator's  wishes,"  he 
added,  as  if  with  an  afterthought.  "  It  is  my  business 
to  find  out  whether  there  is  danger  or  not." 

He  took  his  leave  and  went  away,  convinced  that 
the  old  agent  knew  about  other  things  besides  Sabina's 
friendless  condition,  but  unwilling  to  question  him  just 
then.  The  information  Sassi  had  volunteered  was  in 
teresting  but  not  useful.  Malipieri  thought  he  himself 
knew  well  enough  where  the  "  lost  water "  was,  under 
the  Palazzo  Conti. 

It  was  not  far  from  Sassi's  house  to  the  palace,  but 
he  walked  very  slowly  through  the  narrow  streets,  and 
stopped  more  than  once,  deliberately  looking  back,  as 
if  he  were  trying  to  keep  the  exact  direction  of  some 
point  in  his  mind,  and  he  seemed  interested  in  the 
gutters,  and  in  the  walls,  at  their  base,  just  above  the 
pavement.  At  the  corner  of  the  Vicolo  dei  Soldati  he 
saw  a  little  marble  tablet  let  into  the  masonry  and 
yellow  with  age.  He  stopped  a  moment  and  read  the 


78  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

inscription.  Then  he  turned  away  with  a  look  of 
annoyance,  for  it  set  forth  that  "  by  order  of  the  most 
Eminent  Vicar  all  persons  were  warned  not  to  empty 
garbage  there,  on  pain  of  a  line."  It  was  a  forgotten 
document  of  the  old  papal  administration,  as  he  could 
have  told  without  reading  'it  if  he  had  known  Rome 
better.  From  the  corner  he  counted  his  paces  and 
then  stopped  again  and  examined  the  wall  and  the 
pavement  minutely. 

There  was  nothing  to  be  seen  at  all  different  from 
the  pavement  and  the  wall  for  many  yards  further  on 
and  further  back,  and  Malipieri  apparently  abandoned 
the  search,  for  he  now  walked  on  quickly  till  he  reached 
the  entrance  of  the  palace,  on  the  other  side,  and  went  in. 

From  the  low  door  of  the  wine  shop,  Toto,  the 
mason,  had  seen  him,  and  stood  watching  him  till  he 
was  out  of  sight. 

44  He  does  not  know  where  it  is,"  Toto  said,  sitting 
down  again  opposite  Grigi. 

44  Engineers  know  everything,"  retorted  the  carpenter. 

44  If  this  one  knew  anything,  he  would  not  have  stood 
there  looking  at  the  stones.  I  do  not  suppose  the 
municipality  is  going  to  put  up  a  monument  to  my 
grandfather,  whom  may  the  Lord  preserve  in  glory !  " 

At  this  Gigi  laughed,  for  he  knew  that  Toto's  grand 
father  had  been  drowned  in  the  "  lost  water "  some 
where  deep  down  under  that  spot,  and  had  never  been 
found.  The  two  men  drank  in  silence.  After  a  long 
time  Toto  spoke  again. 

44  A  woman,"  he  said,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  79 

"  A  woman  drowned  him  ? "  asked  Gigi.  "  How 
could  a  woman  do  it?" 

"A  man  did  it.  But  it  was  for  jealousy  of  a 
woman." 

"  The  man  was  a  mason,  I  suppose,"  suggested  Gigi. 

"  Of  course.  He  was  working  with  the  others  in 
the  morning,  and  he  knew  where  they  would  be  after 
dinner.  He  did  not  come  back  with  them,  and  half  an 
hour  after  they  had  gone  down  the  water  came.  How 
many  times  have  I  told  you  that  ? " 

"  It  is  always  a  new  tale,"  answered  Gigi.  "  It  gives 
me  pleasure  to  hear  it.  Your  father  was  a  young  man 
then,  was  he  not  ?  " 

"Eighteen."     Toto  lighted  his  pipe. 

"  And  the  man  who  did  it  died  soon  afterwards  ? "' 
Gigi  said. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Toto.  "  What  else  could  my 
father  do  ?  He  killed  him.  It  was  the  least  he 
could  have  done.  My  father  is  also  in  Paradise." 

"  Requiescat  !  "  ejaculated   the  carpenter   devoutly. 

"  Amen,"  answered  Toto.  "  He  killed  him  with  a 
mattock." 

"  It  was  well  done,"  observed  Gigi  with  satisfaction. 
"  I  suppose,"  he  continued  after  a  pause,  "  that  if 
anybody  went  down  there  now,  you  could  let  in  the 
water." 

"  Why  should  I  ?  I  do  not  care  what  they  do.  If 
they  send  for  me,  I  may  serve  them.  If  they  think 
they  can  do  without  me,  let  them  try.  I  do  not  care 
a  cabbage  ! " 


80  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"  Perhaps  not,"  Gigi  answered  thoughtfully.  "  But 
it  must  be  a  fine  satisfaction  to  know  that  you  can 
drown  them  all,  like  rats  in  a  hole." 

"Yes,"  said  Toto,  "it  is  a  fine  satisfaction." 

"  And  even  to  know  that  you  can  make  the  water 
come  before  they  begin,  so  that  they  can  never  do 
anything  without  you." 

"  That  too,"  assented  the  mason. 

"  They  would  pay  you  a  great  deal  to  help  them,  if 
they  could  not  pump  the  water  out.  There  is  no  one 
else  in  Rome  who  knows  how  to  turn  it  off." 

Gigi  made  the  remark  tentatively,  but  Toto  did  not 
answer. 

"You  will  need  spme  one  to  help  you,"  suggested 
the  carpenter  in  an  insinuating  tone. 

"I  can  do  it  alone." 

"  It  is  somewhere  in  the  cellars  of  number  thirteen, 
is  it  not  ? "  asked  Gigi. 

He  would  have  given  all  he  had  to  know  what  Toto 
knew,  and  the  bargain  would  have  been  a  very  profit 
able  one,  no  doubt.  But  though  the  mason  was  his 
closest  friend  there  were  secrets  of  the  trade  which 
Toto  would  not  reveal  to  him. 

"The  numbers  in  the  street  were  all  changed  ten 
years  ago,"  Toto  answered. 

He  rose  from  his  seat  by  the  grimy  table,  and  Gigi 
followed  his  example  with  a  sigh  of  disappointment. 
They  were  moderate  men,  and  hardly  ever  drank  more 
than  their  litre  of  their  wine.  Toto  smelt  of  mortar 
and  his  fustian  clothes  and  hairy  arms  were  generally 


THE   HEART    OF   EOME  81 

splashed  with  it.  Gigi  smelt  of  glue  and  sawdust,  and 
there  were  plentiful  marks  of  his  calling  on  his  shiny 
old  cloth  trousers  and  his  coarse  linen  shirt.  Toto's 
face  was  square,  stony  and  impenetrable  ;  Gigi's  was 
sharp  as  a  bill  and  alive  with  curiosity.  Gigi  wore  a 
square  paper  cap  ;  Toto  wore  a  battered  felt  hat  of  no 
shape  at  all.  On  Sundays  and  holidays  they  both 
shaved  and  turned  out  in  immaculate  white  shirts, 
well  brushed  broadcloth  and  decent  hats,  recognizable 
to  each  other  but  not  to  their  employers. 

Malipieri  was  accosted  by  a  stranger  at  the  gate  of 
the  palace.  The  porter,  faithfully  obedient  to  his 
orders,  was  standing  inside  the  open  postern,  com 
pletely  blocking  it  with  his  bulk,  and  when  Malipieri 
came  up  the  visitor  was  still  parleying  with  him. 

"  This  gentleman  is  asking  for  you,  sir,"  said  the  old 
man. 

The  individual  bowed  politely  and  stepped  back  a 
little.  He  had  a  singularly  worthy  appearance, 
Malipieri  thought,  and  he  would  have  inspired  confi 
dence  if  employed  in  a  bank;  his  thick  grey  hair  was 
parted  in  the  middle,  and  at  first  sight  Malipieri  felt 
perfectly  sure  that  it  was  parted  down  the  back.  His 
brown  eyes  were  very  wide  open,  and  steady,  his 
slightly  grizzled  moustache  was  neither  twisted  straight 
up  at  the  ends  in  the  imperial  German  manner,  nor 
straight  out  like  ra  cat's  whiskers,  nor  waxed  to  fine 
points  in  the  old  French  fashion.  It  grew  naturally 
and  was  rather  short,  but  it  hid  his  mouth  almost  com 
pletely.  The  man  was  extremely  well  dressed  in  half- 


82  THE   HEART   OF  ROME 

mourning,  wore  dark  grey  gloves  and  carried  a  plain 
black  stick.  He  spoke  quietly  and  Malipieri  thought 
he  recognized  the  Genoese  accent. 

"  Signor  Marino  Malipieri  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  architect,  in  a  tone  that  asked 
the  visitor's  name  in  return. 

"My  name  is  Vittorio  Bruni.  May  I  have  a  few 
words  with  you  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  Malipieri  answered,  with  considerable 
coolness. 

"  Thank  you.  I  have  been  much  interested  by  your 
discoveries  in  Carthage,  and  if  you  would  allow  me  to 
ask  you  one  or  two  questions  —  " 

"  Pray  come  in." 

"Thanks.     After  you." 

"  After  you,"  insisted  Malipieri,  standing  aside. 

They  went  in.  Before  shutting  the  postern,  the 
porter  looked  out  into  the  street.  It  was  almost  de 
serted.  Two  men  were  standing  together  near  the 
corner,  apparently  arguing  some  question,  and  stopping 
in  their  walk  in  order  to  talk  more  at  their  ease,  as 
Romans  often  do.  The  porter  shut  the  little  door  with 
a  clang,  and  went  back  to  his  lodge.  Malipieri  and  his 
visitor  were  already  on  the  stairs. 

Malipieri  let  himself  in  with  a  small  latch-key,  for  he 
had  ordered  a  modern  patent  lock  to  be  put  on  his  door 
as  soon  as  he  moved  into  the  house.  Masin  appeared 
almost  at  once,  however,  and  stood  waiting  for  his 
master  at  the  door  of  the  sitting-room,  like  a  large, 
placid  mastiff.  Malipieri  nodded  to  him,  and  went  in 
with  Signor  Bruni. 


THE   HEART    OF    ROME  83 

They  sat  down  by  the  open  window  and  Signor  Bruni 
began  to  talk.  In  a  few  minutes  it  became  evident 
that  whether  the  man  knew  anything  of  the  subject  or 
not  he  had  read  everything  that  Malipieri  had  written, 
and  remembered  most  of  it  by  heart.  He  spoke 
fluently  and  asked  intelligent  questions.  He  had  never 
been  to  Carthage,  he  said,  but  he  thought  of  making 
the  trip  to  Tunis  during  the  following  winter.  Yes, 
he  was  a  man  of  leisure,  though  he  had  formerly  been 
in  business ;  he  had  a  taste  for  archaeology,  and  did 
not  think  it  was  too  late  to  cultivate  it,  in  a  modest 
way,  for  his  own  pleasure.  Of  course,  he  could  never 
hope  to  accomplish  anything  of  importance,  still  less  to 
become  famous  like  Malipieri.  It  was  merely  a  taste, 
and  was  better  than  nothing  as  an  interest  in  life. 

Malipieri  protested  that  he  was  not  famous,  but 
agreed  with  Signor  Bruni  about  other  matters.  It  was 
better  to  follow  a  serious  pursuit  than  to  do  nothing 
with  one's  life. 

"  Or  to  dash  into  politics,"  suggested  Bruni  care 
lessly,  as  if  he  had  thought  of  trying  that. 

Perhaps  he  had  heard  of  Malipieri's  republican  news 
paper,  but  if  he  had  thought  of  drawing  the  young 
man  into  conversation  about  it,  he  was  disappointed. 
Malipieri  continued  to  agree  with  him,  listening  atten 
tively  to  all  he  said  without  once  looking  bored. 

"  And  now,"  continued  Bruni  presently,  "  if  it  is  not 
indiscreet,  may  I  ask  whether  you  have  any  new  field 
of  discovery  in  view  ?  " 

The  phrases  ran  along  as  if  they  had  been  all  pre- 


84  THE   HEART   OF   EOME 

pared  beforehand.  The  accent  was  now  decidedly 
Genoese,  and  Malipieri,  who  was  a  Venetian,  disliked  it. 

"Not  at  present,"  he  said.  "I  have  undertaken  a 
little  professional  work  in  Rome,  and  I  am  trying  to 
learn  more  about  the  Phoenician  language." 

"That  is  beyond  me!  "     Bruni  smiled  pleasantly. 

Malipieri  looked  at  him  a  moment. 

"  If  you  are  going  to  look  into  Carthaginian  antiqui 
ties,"  he  said,  with  much  gravity,  "  I  strongly  advise 
you  to  study  Phoenician." 

"  Dear  me !  "  exclaimed  Bruni  with  a  sigh  of  regret, 
"  I  had  hoped  it  might  not  be  necessary." 

He  rose  to  take  his  leave,  but  as  if  seeing  the  book 
shelves  for  the  first  time,  asked  permission  to  look  at 
their  contents.  Malipieri  saw  that  his  glance  ran 
sharply  along  the  titles  of  the  volumes,  and  that  he 
was  reading  them  as  quickly  as  he  could. 

"  I  suppose  you  live  here  quite  alone,"  he  said. 

"  Yes.     I  have  a  servant." 

"  Of  course.  They  tell  me  that  Baron  Volterra  has 
not  decided  what  he  will  do  with  the  palace,  and  will 
not  give  a  lease  of  it  to  any  one." 

"  I  do  not  know  what  he  means  to  do,"  answered 
Malipieri,  looking  at  the  straight  part  down  the  back 
of  his  worthy  visitor's  hair,  as  the  latter  bent  to  look 
at  the  books. 

"  I  suppose  he  lends  you  this  apartment,  as  a  friend," 
said  Bruni. 

"No.     I  pay  rent  for  it." 

Signor   Bruni  was   becoming   distinctly  inquisitive, 


THE   HEART   OF   EOME  85 

thought  Malipieri,  who  answered  coldly.  Possibly  the 
visitor  perceived  the  hint,  for  he  now  finally  took  his 
leave.  In  spite  of  his  protestations  Malipieri  went  all 
the  way  downstairs  with  him,  and  let  him  out  himself, 
just  as  the  porter  came  out  of  his  lodge  at  the  sound  of 
their  footsteps. 

Signor  Bruni  bowed  a  last  time,  and  then  walked 
briskly  away.  By  force  of  habit,  the  porter  looked  up 
and  down  the  street  before  shutting  the  door  after  him, 
and  he  was  somewhat  surprised  to  see  that  the  two 
men  whom  he  had  noticed  half  an  hour  earlier  had  only 
just  finished  their  argument  and  turned  to  go  on  as 
Signor  Bruni  passed  them.  Then  the  porter  watched 
them  all  three  till  they  disappeared  round  the  corner. 
At  the  same  moment,  from  the  opposite  direction,  Toto 
reached  the  door  of  the  palace,  and  greeted  the  porter 
with  a  rough  good-evening. 

"  I  have  forgotten  the  name  of  this  palace,"  he  added, 
by  way  of  a  joke,  meaning  that  he  had  not  been  called 
to  do  any  work  for  a  long  time.  "  Perhaps  you  can  tell 
me  what  it  is  called." 

"  It  used  to  be  a  madhouse,"  returned  the  porter  in 
the  same  strain.  "Now  that  the  madmen  are  gone, 
a  mole  lives  here.  I  kept  the  door  open  for  the  luna 
tics,  and  they  all  got  out.  I  keep  it  shut  for  the  mole, 
when  he  does  not  shut  it  himself." 

"  I  will  come  in  and  smoke  a  pipe  with  you,"  said 
Toto.  "  We  will  talk  of  old  times." 

The  porter  shook  his  head,  and  blocked  the  way. 

"Not  if   you   were   the   blessed   soul  of  my  father 


86  THE    HEART    OF    ROME 

come  back  from  the  dead,"  he  said.  "  The  Baron's  in 
structions  are  to  let  no  one  in  without  the  mole's  orders." 

"  But  I  am  an  old  friend,"  objected  Toto. 

44  Not  if  you  were  my  mother,  and  the  Holy  Father, 
and  Saint  Peter,  and  all  the  souls  of  Purgatory  at 
once,"  answered  the  porter. 

44  May  an  apoplexy  seize  you  ! "  observed  Toto 
pleasantly,  and  he  went  off,  his  pipe  in  his  rnouth. 

The  porter  shrugged  his  shoulders  at  the  impreca 
tion,  shut  the  door  reluctantly,  and  went  in  to  supper. 
Upstairs,  Malipieri  stood  at  his  open  window,  smoking 
and  watching  the  old  fountain  in  the  court.  It  was 
evening,  and  a  deep  violet  light  filled  the  air  and  was 
reflected  in  the  young  man's  bronzed  face.  He  was 
very  thoughtful  now,  and  was  not  aware  that  he  heard 
the  irregular  splash  of  the  water  in  the  dark  basin  at 
the  feet  of  the  statue  of  Hercules,  and  the  eager  little 
scream  of  the  swallows  as  they  shot  past  him,  upward 
to  the  high  old  eaves,  where  their  young  were,  and 
downwards  almost  to  the  gravel  of  the  court,  and  in  wide 
circles  and  madly  sudden  curves.  The  violet  light  faded 
softly,  and  the  dusk  drank  the  last  drop  of  it,  and  the 
last  swallow  disappeared  under  the  eaves;  but  still  Mali 
pieri  leaned  upon  the  stone  window-sill,  looking  down. 

For  a  long  time  he  thought  of  Signor  Bruni.  He 
wondered  whether  he  had  ever  seen  the  man  before, 
or  whether  the  face  only  seemed  familiar  because  it 
was  the  type  of  a  class  of  faces  all  more  or  less  alike, 
all  intensely  respectable  and  not  without  refinement, 
expressing  a  grave  reticence  that  did  not  agree  with  the 


THE   HEART    OF    ROME  87 

fluent  speech,  and  'a  polite  reserve  at  odds  with  the 
inquisitive  nature  that  revealed  itself. 

Malipieri  was  inclined  to  think  he  had  never  met 
Bruni,  but  somehow  the  latter  recalled  the  hot  times  in 
Milan,  and  his  short  political  career,  and  the  associa 
tion  was  not  to  the  man's  advantage.  He  could  not 
recall  the  name  at  all.  It  was  like  any  other,  and 
rather  especially  unobtrusive.  Anybody  might  be 
called  Vittorio  Bruni,  and  Vittorio  Brurii  might  be 
anybody,  from  a  senator  to  a  shoemaker  ;  but  if  he  had 
been  a  senator,  or  any  political  personage,  Malipieri 
would  have  heard  of  him. 

There  was  something  very  odd,  too,  about  his  know 
ledge  of  Carthaginian  antiquities,  which  was  entirely 
limited  to  the  contents  of  Malipieri's  own  pamphlets. 
He  knew  nothing  of  the  Egyptians  and  very  little 
about  the  Greeks,  beyond  what  Malipieri  had  neces 
sarily  written  about  both.  He  had  talked  much  as  a 
man  does  who  has  read  up  an  unfamiliar  subject  in 
order  to  make  a  speech  about  it,  and  though  the  speech 
is  skilful,  an  expert  can  easily  detect  the  shallowness  of 
attainment  behind  it. 

There  could  be  only  one  reason  why  any  one  should 
take  so  much  trouble  ;  the  object  was  evidently  to 
make  Malipieri's  acquaintance,  in  the  absence  of  an 
ordinary  introduction.  And  yet  Signor  Bruni  had 
quite  forgotten  to  give  his  card  with  his  address,  as 
almost  any  Italian  would  have  done  under  the  circum 
stances,  whether  he  expected  the  meeting  to  be  followed 
by  another  or  not.  Malipieri  spent  most  of  his  time  in 


88  THE   HEART   OF   EOME 

his  rooms,  but  he  knew  very  weM  that  he  might  go 
about  Rome  for  weeks  and  not  come  across  the  man  again. 

He  recalled  the  whole  conversation.  He  had  in  the 
first  place  expected  that  iBruni  would  be  inquisitive 
about  the  palace,  and  perhaps  ask  to  be  shown  over  it, 
but  it  was  only  at  the  last  that  he  had  put  one  or  two 
questions  which  suggested  an  interest  in  the  building, 
and  then  he  had  at  once  taken  the  hint  given  him  by 
Malipieri's  cold  tone,  and  had  not  persisted.  On  the 
other  hand  he  had  looked  carefully  at  the  titles  of  the 
books  on  the  shelves,  as  if  in  search  of  something. 

Then  Malipieri  was  conscious  again  of  the  associa 
tion,  in  his  own  mind,  between  the  man's  personality 
and  his  own  political  experiences,  and  he  suddenly 
laughed  aloud. 

"  What  a  precious  fool  I  am  !  "  he  thought.  "  The 
man  is  nothing  but  a  detective  ! " 

The  echo  of  his  laugh  came  back  to  him  from  across 
the  dusky  court  in  rather  a  ghostly  way. 

The  evening  air  was  all  at  once  chilly,  and  he  shut  his 
window  and  called  for  Masin,  who  instantly  appeared 
with  a  lamp.  Masin  was  always  ready,  and,  indeed, 
possessed  many  qualities  excellent  in  a  faithful  servant, 
among  which  gratitude  to  Malipieri  held  a  high  place. 

He  had  something  to  be  grateful  for,  which  is  not, 
however,  always  a  cause  of  gratitude  in  the  receiver  of 
favours  and  mercies.  He  had  been  a  convict,  and  had 
served  a  term  of  several  years  in  penal  servitude. 
The  sentence  had  been  passed  upon  him  for  having 
stabbed  a  man  in  the  back,  in  a  drunken  brawl,  but 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  89 

Masin  had  steadily  denied  the  charge,  and  the  evidence 
against  him  had  been  merely  circumstantial.  It  had 
happened  in  Rome,  where  Masin  had  worked  as  a 
mason  during  the  construction  of  the  new  Courts  of 
Justice.  He  was  from  the  far  north  of  Italy,  and  was, 
of  course,  hated  by  his  companions,  as  only  Italians  of 
different  parts  of  the  country  can  hate  one  another. 
To  shield  one  of  themselves,  they  unanimously  gave 
evidence  against  Masin  ;  the  jury  was  chiefly  composed 
of  Romans,  the  judge  was  a  Sicilian,  and  Masin  had  no 
chance.  Fortunately  for  him,  the  man  lived,  though 
much  injured  ;  if  he  had  died,  Masin  would  have  got  a 
life  sentence.  It  was  an  old  story  ;  false  witnesses,  a 
prejudiced  jury,  and  a  judge  who,  though  willing  to  put 
his  prejudices  aside,  had  little  choice  but  to  convict. 

Masin  had  been  sent  to  Elba  to  the  penitentiary,  had 
been  a  "  good-behaviour  man  "  from  first  to  last,  and 
his  term  had  been  slightly  abridged  in  consequence. 
When  he  was  discharged,  he  went  back  to  the  north. 
Malipieri  had  found  him  working  as  a  mason  when 
some  repairs  were  being  made  in  the  cathedral  of 
Milan,  and  had  taken  a  fancy  to  him.  Masin  had  told 
his  story  simply  and  frankly,  explaining  that  he  found 
it  hard  to  get  a  living  at  all  since  he  had  been  a  con 
vict,  and  that  he  was  trying  to  save  enough  money  to 
emigrate  to  New  York.  Malipieri  had  thought  over 
the  matter  for  a  week,  speaking  to  him  now  and  then, 
and  watching  him,  and  had  at  last  proposed  to  take 
him  into  his  own  service.  Later,  Masin  had  helped 
Malipieri  to  escape,  had  followed  him  into  exile,  and 


90  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

had  been  of  the  greatest  use  to  him  during  the  excava 
tions  in  Carthage,  where  he  had  acted  as  body-servant, 
foreman,  and  often  as  a  trusted  friend. 

He  was  certainly  not  an  accomplished  valet,  but 
Malipieri  did  not  care  for  that.  He  was  sober,  he 
was  honest,  he  was  trustworthy,  he  was  cool  in  danger, 
and  he  was  very  strong.  Moreover,  he  was  an  excel 
lent  and  experienced  mason,  a  fact  of  little  or  no  use 
in  the  scientific  treatment  of  shoes,  trousers,  silk  hats, 
hair-brushes  and  coffee,  but  which  had  more  than  once 
been  valuable  to  Malipieri  during  the  last  few  years. 
Finally,  his  gratitude  to  the  man  who  had  believed  in 
his  innocence  was  deep  and  lasting.  Masin  would 
really  have  given  his  life  to  save  Malipieri's,  and  would 
have  been  glad  to  give  it. 

He  set  the  lamp  down  on  the  table,  and  waited  for 
orders,  his  blue  eyes  quietly  fixed  on  his  master. 

"  I  never  saw  that  gentleman  before,"  said  Malipieri, 
setting  some  papers  in  order,  under  the  bright  light, 
but  still  standing.  "  Did  you  look  at  his  face  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Masin,  and  waited. 

"  What  sort  of  man  should  you  take  him  to  be  ?  " 

"  A  spy,  sir,"  replied  Masin  promptly. 

"  I  think  you  are  right,"  Malipieri  answered.  "  We 
will  begin  work  to-morrow  morning." 

"Yes,  sir." 

Malipieri  ate  his  supper  without  noticing  what 
Masin  brought  him,  and  then  installed  himself  with 
his  shaded  lamp  at  his  work-table.  He  took  from  the 
drawer  a  number  of  sketches  of  plans  and  studied  them 
attentively,  by  a  rather  odd  process. 


THE   HEART  OF  EOME  91 

He  had  drawn  only  one  plan  on  heavy  paper,  in 
strong  black  lines.  An  architect  would  have  seen  at 
once  that  it  represented  a  part  of  the  foundations  of 
a  very  large  building  ;  and  two  or  three  persons  then 
living  in  Rome  might  have  recognized  the  plan  of  the 
cellars  under  the  north-west  corner  of  the  Palazzo 
Conti  —  certainly  not  more  than  two  or  three,  one  of 
whom  was  the  snuffy  expert  who  had  come  from  be 
yond  the  Tiber,  and  another  was  Baron  Volterra. 
Toto,  the  mason,  could  have  threaded  the  intricate 
ways  in  the  dark,  but  could  assuredly  have  made 
nothing  of  the  drawings.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
persons  who  were  acquainted  with  them  did  not  know 
what  Toto  knew,  and  he  was  not  at  all  inclined  to 
impart  his  knowledge  to  any  one,  for  reasons  best 
known  to  himself. 

Furthermore,  an  architect  would  have  understood  at 
a  glance  that  the  plan  was  incomplete,  and  that  there 
was  some  reason  why  it  could  not  be  completed.  A 
part  of  it  was  quite  blank,  but  in  one  place  the  prob 
able  continuation  of  a  main  wall  not  explored,  or  alto 
gether  inaccessible,  was  indicated  by  dotted  lines. 

Besides  this  main  drawing,  Malipieri  had  several 
others  made  on  tracing  paper  to  the  same  scale,  which 
he  laid  over  the  first,  and  moved  about,  trying  to  make 
the  one  fit  the  other,  and  in  each  of  these  the  part 
which  was  blank  in  the  one  underneath  was  filled  in 
according  to  different  imaginary  plans.  Lastly,  he 
had  a  large  transparent  sheet  on  which  were  accurately 
laid  out  the  walls  and  doors  of  the  ground  floor  of  the 


92  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

palace  at  the  north-west  corner,  and  in  this  there  was 
marked  a  square  piece  of  masonry,  shaded  as  if  to 
represent  a  solid  pilaster,  and  which  came  over  the  un 
explored  part  of  the  cellars.  Sometimes  Malipieri 
placed  this  drawing  over  the  first,  and  then  one  of  the 
others  on  both,  trying  to  make  the  three  agree.  It 
was  like  an  odd  puzzle,  and  there  was  not  a  word 
written  on  any  of  the  plans  to  explain  what  they 
meant.  On  most  of  the  thin  ones  there  were  blue 
lines,  indicating  water,  or  at  least  its  possible  course. 
The  imaginary  architect,  if  he  could  have  watched 
the  real  one,  would  have  understood  before  long  that 
the  latter  was  theorizing  about  the  probable  construc 
tion  of  what  was  hitherto  inaccessible,  and  about  the 
probable  position  of  certain  channels  through  which 
water  flowed,  or  might  be  expected  to  flow.  He  would 
also  have  gathered  that  Malipieri  could  reach  no  defi 
nite  conclusion  unless  he  could  break  through  one  of 
two  walls  in  the  cellar,  or  descend  through  an  opening 
in  the  floor  above,  which  would  be  by  far  the  easiest 
way.  He  might  even  have  wondered  why  Malipieri 
did  not  at  once  adopt  the  latter  expedient.  It  is  not 
a  serious  matter  to  make  an  aperture  through  a  vault, 
large  enough  to  allow  the  passage  of  a  man's  body,  and 
it  could  not  be  attended  with  any  danger  to  the  build 
ing.  It  would  be  much  less  safe  and  far  more  difficult 
to  out  a  hole  through  one  of  the  main  foundation  walls, 
which  might  be  many  feet  thick  and  yet  not  wholly 
secure.  Nevertheless  the  movements  made  by  the 
point  of  Malipieri's  pencil  showed  that  he  was  con 
templating  that  method  of  gaining  an  entrance. 


CHAPTER  VII 

SABINA  had  been  more  than  two  months  in  Baron 
Volterra's  house,  when  she  at  last  received  a  line  from 
her  mother.  The  short  letter  was  characteristic  and 
was,  after  all,  what  the  girl  had  expected,  neither  more 
nor  less.  The  Princess  told  her  that  for  the  present 
she  must  stay  with  the  "  kind  friends  "  who  had  offered 
her  a  home  ;  that  everything  would  be  right  before 
long  ;  that  if  she  needed  any  advice  she  had  better 
send  for  Sassi,  who  had  always  served  the  family  faith 
fully  ;  that  gowns  were  going  to  be  short  next  year, 
which  would  be  becoming  to  Sabina  when  she  "  came 
out,"  because  she  had  small  feet  and  admirable  ankles  ; 
and  that  the  weather  was  heavenly.  The  Princess 
added  that  she  would  send  her  some  pocket-money 
before  long,  and  that  she  was  trying  to  find  the  best 
way  of  sending  it. 

In  spite  of  her  position  Sabina  smiled  at  the  last  sen 
tence.  It  was  so  like  her  mother  to  promise  what  she 
would  never  perform,  that  it  amused  her.  She  sat  still 
for  some  time  with  the  letter  in  her  hand  and  then 
took  it  to  the  Baroness,  for  she  felt  that  it  was  time  to 
speak  out  and  that  the  interview  could  not  be  put  off 
any  longer.  The  Baroness  was  writing  in  her  boudoir. 
She  wrote  her  letters  on  large  sheets  of  an  especial 

93 


94  THE   HEART   OF  ROME 

paper,  stamped  with  her  initials,  over  which  appeared  a 
very  minute  Italian  baron's  coronet,  with  seven  points  ; 
it  was  so  small  that  one  might  easily  have  thought  that 
it  had  nine,  like  a  count's,  but  it  was  undeniably  smart 
and  suggested  an  assured  position  in  the  aristocracy. 
No  one  quite  remembered  why  the  late  King  had  made 
Yolterra  a  baron,  but  he  undoubtedly  had  done  so,  and 
no  one  disputed  Volterra's  right  to  use  the  title. 

Sabina  read  her  letter  aloud,  and  the  Baroness 
listened  attentively,  with  a  grave  expression. 

"Your  dear  mother  —  "she  began  in  a  soothing 
tone. 

"  She  is  not  my  '  dear  mother '  at  all,"  said  Sabina, 
interrupting  her.  "  She  is  not  any  more  '  dear '  to  me 
than  I  am  to  her." 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  the  Baroness,  affecting  to  be 
shocked  by  the  girl's  heartlessness. 

"  If  it  were  not  for  my  4  dear  mother,'  I  should  not 
be  a  beggar,"  said  Sabina. 

"  A  beggar  !     What  a  word  !  " 

"  There  is  no  other,  that  I  know  of.  I  am  living  on 
your  charity." 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  do  not  say  such  things  !  "  cried 
the  Baroness. 

"  There  is  nothing  else  to  say.  If  you  had  not  taken 
me  in  and  lodged  me  and  fed  me,  I  should  like  to  know 
where  I  should  be  now.  I  am  quite  sure  that  my 
'  dear  mother '  would  not  care,  but  I  cannot  help 
wondering  what  is  to  become  of  me.  Are  you 
surprised  ?  " 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  95 

"  Are  you  not  provided  for  here  ?  "  The  question 
was  put  in  a  tone  almost  of  deprecation. 

"  Provided  for  !  I  am  surrounded  with  every  sort  of 
luxury,  when  I  ought  to  be  working  for  my  living." 

"  Working  !  "  The  Baroness  was  filled  with  horror. 
"  You,  my  dear,  the  daughter  of  a  Roman  Prince  ! 
You,  working  for  your  living  !  You,  a  Conti !  " 

Sabina  smiled  and  looked  down  at  her  delicate  hands. 

"  I  cannot  see  what  my  name  has  to  do  with  it,"  she 
said.  "  It  is  not  much  to  be  proud  of,  considering  how 
my  relatives  behave." 

"  It  is  a  great  name,"  said  the  Baroness  solemnly  and 
emphatically. 

"  It  was  once,"  Sabina  answered,  leaning  back  in  the 
low  chair  she  had  taken,  and  looking  at  the  ceiling. 
"  My  mother  and  my  brother  have  not  added  lustre  to 
it,  and  I  would  much  rather  be  called  Signorina  Emilia 
Moscetti  and  be  a  governess,  than  be  Sabina  Conti  and 
live  on  charity.  I  have  no  right  to  what  I  do  not 
possess  and  cannot  earn." 

"  My  dear  child  !  This  is  rank  socialism  !  I  am 
afraid  you  talked  too  long  with  Malipieri  the  other 
night." 

"  There  is  a  man  who  works,  though  he  has  what  you 
call  a  great  name,"  observed  Sabina.  "  I  admire  that. 
He  was  poor,  I  suppose  —  perhaps  not  so  poor  as  I  am  — 
and  he  made  up  his  mind  to  earn  his  living  and  a 
reputation." 

"  You  are  quite  mistaken,"  said  the  Baroness  drily. 

Sabina  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 


96  THE   HEART   OF   KOME 

"  I  thought  he  was  a  distinguished  architect  and 
engineer,"  she  answered. 

"  Yes.  But  he  was  never  poor,  and  he  will  be  very 
rich  some  day." 

"  Indeed  !  "  Sabina  seemed  rather  disappointed  at 
the  information. 

There  was  a  little  pause,  and  the  Baroness  looked  at 
her  unfinished  letter  as  if  she  wished  that  Sabina  would 
go  away.  She  had  foreseen  that  before  long  the  girl 
would  make  some  protest  against  her  position  as  a  per 
petual  guest  in  the  house,  but  had  no  clear  idea  of  how 
to  meet  it.  Sabina  seemed  so  very  decided. 

"  We  have  done  our  best  to  make  you  feel  at  home, 
like  one  of  the  family,"  the  Baroness  said  presently,  in 
a  rather  injured  tone. 

Sabina  did  not  wish  to  be  one  of  the  family  at  all, 
but  she  knew  that  she  was  under  great  obligations 
to  her  hosts,  and  she  did  not  wish  to  be  thought  un 
grateful. 

"  You  have  been  more  than  kind,"  she  answered 
gently,  "  and  I  shall  never  forget  it.  You  have  taken 
more  trouble  with  me  in  two  or  three  months  than  my 
mother  in  all  my  life.  Please  do  not  imagine  that  I 
am  not  thankful  for  all  you  have  done." 

The  words  were  spoken  sincerely,  and  when  Sabina 
was  very  much  in  earnest  there  was  something  at  once 
convincing  and  touching  in  her  voice.  The  Baroness's 
sallow  cheek  actually  flushed  with  pleasure,  and  she 
was  impelled  to  leave  her  seat  and  kiss  Sabina  affec 
tionately.  She  was  restrained  by  a  reasonable  doubt 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  97 

as  to  the  consequences  of  such  demonstrative  famili 
arity,  though  she  would  not  have  hesitated  to  kiss  the 
girl's  mother  under  like  circumstances. 

"  It  was  the  least  we  could  do,"  she  said,  knowing 
very  well  that  the  phrase  meant  nothing. 

"Excuse  me,"  Sabina  objected,  "but  there  was  no 
reason  in  the  world  why  you  should  do  anything  at  all 
for  me  !  In  the  natural  course  of  things  I  should 
either  have  been  sent  to  the  country  with  my  sister-in- 
law,  or  to  the  convent  with  Clementina." 

"You  would  have  been  very  unhappy,  my  dear 
child." 

"  I  do  not  know  which  would  have  been  worse,"  said 
Sabina  frankly.  "  They  both  hate  me,  and  I  hate 
them." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  exclaimed  the  Baroness,  shocked  again, 
or  pretending  to  be. 

"In  our  family,"  Sabina  answered  calmly,  "we  all 
hate  each  other." 

"  I  am  sure  your  sister  Clementina  is  far  too  religious 
to  feel  hatred  for  any  one." 

"  You  do  not  know  her  !  "  Sabina  laughed,  and 
looked  at  the  ceiling.  "  She  hates  '  the  wicked '  with 
a  mortal  hatred  !  " 

"  Perhaps  you  mean  that  she  hates  wickedness,  my 
dear,"  suggested  the  Baroness  in  a  moralizing  tone. 

"  Not  at  all !  "  laughed  the  young  girl.  "  She  would 
like  to  destroy  everybody  who  is  not  like  her,  and  she 
would  begin  with  her  own  family.  She  used  to  tell 
me  that  I  was  doomed  to  eternal  flames  because  I  loved 


98  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

my  canary  better  than  I  loved  her.  I  did.  It  was 
quite  true.  As  for  my  brother,  she  said  he  was  wicked, 
too.  I  quite  believe  he  is,  but  she  had  a  friendly 
understanding  with  him,  because  they  used  to  make 
Signor  Sassi  get  money  for  them  both.  In  the  end 
they  got  so  much  that  there  was  nothing  left.  Her 
share  all  went  to  convents  and  extraordinary  charities, 
and  his  went  heaven  knows  where  !  " 

"And  yours?"  asked  the  Baroness,  to  see  what  she 
would  say. 

"  I  suppose  it  went  to  them  too,  like  everything  else, 
and  to  my  mother,  who  spent  a  great  deal  of  money. 
At  all  events,  none  of  us  have  anything  now.  That  is 
why  I  want  to  work." 

"  It  is  an  honourable  impulse,  no  doubt,"  the  Baron 
ess  said,  in  a  tone  of  meditative  disapproval. 

Sabina  leaned  forward,  her  chin  on  her  hand. 

"You  think  I  am  too  young,"  she  said.  "And  I 
really  know  nothing,  except  bad  French  and  dancing. 
I  cannot  even  sew,  at  least,  not  very  well,  and  I  cannot 
cook."  She  laughed.  "I  once  made  some  very  good 
toast,"  she  added  thoughtfully. 

"  You  must  marry,"  said  the  Baroness.  "  You  must 
make  a  good  marriage." 

"  No  one  will  marry  me,  because  I  have  no  dowry," 
answered  Sabina  with  perfect  simplicity. 

"  Some  men  marry  girls  who  have  none.  You  are 
very  pretty,  you  know." 

"  So  my  mother  used  to  tell  me  when  she  was  in  a 
good  humour.  But  Clementina  always  said  I  was 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  99 

hideous,  that  my  eyes  were  like  a  little  pig's,  quite 
inside  my  head,  and  that  my  hair  was  grey,  like  an  old 
woman's,  and  that  I  was  as  thin  as  a  grasshopper." 

"  You  are  very  pretty,"  the  Baroness  repeated  with 
conviction ;  "  and  I  am  sure  you  would  make  a  good 
wife." 

"  I  am  afraid  not !  "  Sabina  laughed.  "  We  are  none 
of  us  good,  you  know.  Why  should  I  be  ?  " 

The  Baroness  disapproved. 

"  That  is  a  flippant  speech,"  she  said  severely. 

"  I  do  not  feel  flippant  at  all.  I  am  very  serious.  I 
wish  to  earn  my  living." 

"But  you  cannot  —  " 

"  But  I  wish  to,"  answered  Sabina,  as  if  that  settled 
the  question. 

"Have  you  always  done  what  you  wished?"  asked 
the  Baroness  wisely. 

"  No,  never.  That  is  why  I  mean  to  begin  at  once. 
I  am  sure  I  can  learn  to  be  a  maid,  or  to  make  hats, 
or  feed  babies  with  bottles.  Many  girls  of  eighteen 
can." 

The  Baroness  shrugged  her  shoulders  in  a  decidedly 
plebeian  way.  Sabina's  talk  seemed  very  silly  to  her, 
no  doubt,  but  she  felt  slightly  foolish  herself  just  then. 
At  close  quarters  and  in  the  relative  intimacy  that  had 
grown  up  between  them,  the  descendant  of  all  the  Conti 
had  turned  out  to  be  very  different  from  what  the  finan 
cier's  wife  had  expected,  and  it  was  not  easy  to  under 
stand  her.  Sometimes  the  girl  talked  like  a  woman  of 
the  world,  and  sometimes  like  a  child.  Her  character 


100  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

seemed  to  be  a  compound  of  cynicism  and  simplicity, 
indifference  and  daring,  gentleness,  hardness  and  pride, 
all  wonderfully  amalgamated  under  a  perfectly  self- 
possessed  manner,  and  pervaded  by  the  most  undeniable 
charm.  It  was  no  wonder  that  the  poor  Baroness  was 
as  puzzled  as  a  hen  that  has  hatched  a  swan. 

Sabina  had  behaved  perfectly,  so  far ;  the  Baroness 
admitted  this,  and  it  had  added  considerably  to  her 
growing  social  importance  to  be  regarded  as  the  girl's 
temporary  guardian.  Even  royalty  had  expressed  its 
approval  of  her  conduct  and  its  appreciation  of  her 
generosity,  and  it  was  one  of  the  Baroness's  chief  ambi 
tions  to  be  noticed  by  royalty.  She  had  shown  a  good 
deal  of  tact,  too,  for  she  was  woman  enough  to  guess 
what  the  girl  must  feel,  and  how  hard  it  must  be  to 
accept  so  much  without  any  prospect  of  being  able  to 
make  a  return.  So  far,  however,  matters  had  gone  very 
well,  and  she  had  really  begun  to  look  forward  to  the 
glory  of  presenting  Sabina  in  society  during  the  follow 
ing  winter,  and  of  steering  her  to  a  rich  marriage,  pen 
niless  though  she  was. 

But  this  morning  she  had  received  a  new  impression 
which  disturbed  her.  It  was  not  that  she  attached 
much  importance  to  Sabina's  wild  talk  about  working 
for  a  living,  for  that  was  absurd,  on  the  face  of  it ;  but 
there  was  something  daring  in  the  tone,  something  in 
the  little  careless  laugh  which  made  her  feel  that  the 
delicate  girl  might  be  capable  of  doing  very  unexpected 
and  dangerous  things.  The  sudden  conviction  came 
upon  her  that  Sabina  was  of  the  kind  that  run  away  and 


THE   HEART   OF   EOME  101 

make  love  matches,  and  otherwise  break  through  social 
conventions  in  a  manner  quite  irreparable.  And  if 
Sabina  did  anything  of  that  sort,  the  Baroness  would 
not  only  lose  all  the  glory  she  had  gained,  but  would 
of  course  be  severely  blamed  by  Roman  society,  which 
would  be  an  awful  calamity  if  it  did  not  amount  to  a 
social  fall.  She  alone  knew  how  hard  she  had  worked 
to  build  up  her  position,  and  she  guessed  how  easily  an 
accident  might  destroy  it.  Her  husband  had  his  politics 
and  his  finance  to  interest  him,  but  what  would  be  left 
to  his  wife  if  she  once  lost  her  hold  upon  the  aristocracy  ? 
Even  the  smile  of  royalty  would  not  make  up  for  that, 
and  royalty  would  certainly  not  smile  if  Sabina,  being 
in  her  charge,  did  anything  very  startlingly  unconven 
tional. 

Sabina  was  quite  conscious  that  the  Baroness  did  not 
understand ;  indeed,  she  had  not  really  expected  to  be 
understood,  and  when  she  saw  the  shrug  of  the  shoul 
ders  that  answered  her  last  speech  she  rose  quietly  and 
went  to  the  window.  The  blinds  were  drawn  together, 
for  it  was  now  late  in  May,  but  she  could  see  down  to 
the  street,  and  as  she  looked  she  started  a  little. 

"  There  is  Signor  Malipieri !  "  she  cried,  and  it  was 
clear  that  she  was  glad. 

The  Baroness  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise. 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  "  she  asked. 

Yes,  Sabina  was  quite  sure.  He  had  just  driven  up 
to  the  door  in  a  cab.  Now  he  was  paying  the  cabman, 
too,  instead  of  making  him  wait.  The  Baroness  glanced 
at  the  showy  little  clock  set  in  turquoises,  which  stood 


102  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

on  her  writing-table,  and  she  put  away  her  unfinished 
letter. 

"  We  will  ask  him  to  stay  to  luncheon,"  she  said,  in 
a  decided  tone. 

After  sending  up  to  ask  if  he  would  be  received, 
Malipieri  entered  the  room  with  an  apology.  He  said 
that  he  had  hoped  to  find  the  Baron  in,  and  had  been 
told  that  he  might  come  at  any  moment.  The  Baron 
ess  thereupon  asked  the  visitor  to  stay  to  luncheon,  and 
Malipieri  accepted,  and  sat  down. 

It  had  always  amused  Sabina  to  watch  how  the 
Baroness's  manner  changed  when  any  one  appeared 
whom  she  did  not  know  very  well.  Her  mouth  as 
sumed  a  stereotyped  smile,  she  held  her  head  a  little 
forward  and  on  one  side,  and  she  spoke  in  quite  an 
other  tone.  But  just  now  Sabina  did  not  notice  these 
things.  She  was  renewing  her  impression  of  Malipieri, 
whom  she  had  only  seen  once  and  in  evening  dress. 
She  liked  him  even  better  now,  she  thought,  and  it 
would  have  pleased  her  to  look  at  him  longer. 

Their  eyes  met  in  a  glance  as  he  told  the  Baroness 
that  he  had  come  to  see  Volterra  on  a  matter  of  busi 
ness.  He  did  not  explain  what  the  business  was,  and 
at  once  began  to  talk  of  other  things,  as  if  to  escape 
possible  questions.  Sabina  thought  he  was  paler  than 
before,  or  less  sunburnt,  perhaps;  at  all  events,  the 
contrast  between  his  very  white  forehead  and  his 
bronzed  face  was  less  strong.  She  could  see  his  eyes 
more  distinctly,  too,  than  she  had  seen  them  in  the 
evening,  and  she  liked  their  expression  better,  for  he 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  103 

did  not  look  at  all  bored  now.  She  liked  his  voice,  too, 
for  the  slight  harshness  that  seemed  always  ready  to 
command.  She  liked  the  man  altogether,  and  was  con 
scious  of  the  fact,  and  wished  she  could  talk  with  him 
again,  as  she  had  talked  that  evening  on  the  sofa  in  the 
corner,  without  fear  of  interruption. 

That  was  impossible,  and  she  listened  to  what  he 
said.  It  was  merely  the  small  talk  of  a  man  of  the 
world  who  knows  that  he  is  expected  to  say  something 
not  altogether  dull,  and  takes  pains  to  be  agreeable,  but 
Sabina  felt  all  through  it  a  sort  of  sympathy  which  she 
missed  very  much  in  the  Volterra  household,  the  cer 
tainty  of  fellowship  which  people  who  have  been 
brought  up  in  similar  surroundings  feel  when  they 
meet  in  an  atmosphere  not  their  own. 

A  few  minutes  after  he  had  come,  a  servant  opened 
the  door  and  said  that  the  Baron  wished  to  speak  to 
the  Baroness  at  the  telephone.  She  rose,  hesitated  a 
moment  and  went  out,  leaving  the  two  young  people 
together. 

"  I  have  seen  Sassi,"  said  Malipieri  in  a  low  voice,  as 
soon  as  the  door  was  shut. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Sabina,  with  a  little  interroga 
tion. 

She  was  very  much  surprised  to  hear  a  slight  tremor 
in  her  own  voice  as  she  uttered  the  one  word. 

"I  like  him  very  much,"  Malipieri  continued.  "He 
is  a  good  friend  to  you.  He  said  that  if  anything  of 
importance  happened  he  would  come  and  see  you." 

"  I  shall  be  glad,"  Sabina  said. 


104  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"  Something  is  happening,  which  may  bring  him.  Be 
sure  to  see  him  alone,  when  he  comes." 

"Yes,  but  what  is  it?  What  can  possibly  happen 
that  can  make  a  difference  ?  " 

Malipieri  glanced  at  the  door,  fearing  that  the  Baron 
ess  might  enter  suddenly. 

"  Can  you  keep  a  secret  ?  "  he  asked  quickly. 

"  Of  course  !  Tell  me !  "  She  leaned  forward  with 
eager  interest,  expecting  his  next  words. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  that  something  very  valuable  is 
said  to  be  hidden  somewhere  under  the  palace?  " 

Sabina's  face  fell  and  the  eagerness  faded  from  her 
eyes  instantly.  She  had  often  heard  the  story  from  her 
nurses  when  she  had  been  a  little  girl,  and  she  did  not 
believe  a  word  of  it,  any  more  than  she  believed  that 
the  marble*  statue  of  Cardinal  Conti  in  the  library 
really  came  down  from  its  pedestal  on  the  eve  of  All 
Souls'  and  walked  through  the  state  apartments,  or  the 
myth  about  the  armour  of  Francesco  Conti,  of  which  the 
nurses  used  to  tell  her  that  on  the  anniversary  of 
the  night  of  his  murder  his  eyes  could  be  seen  through 
the  bars  of  the  helmet,  glowing  with  the  infernal  fire. 
As  for  any  hidden  treasure,  she  was  quite  positive  that 
if  it  existed  her  brother  and  sister  would  have  got  at  it 
long  ago.  Malipieri  sank  in  her  estimation  as  soon  as 
he  mentioned  it.  He  was  only  a  Venetian,  of  course, 
and  could  not  be  expected  to  know  much  about  Rome, 
but  he  must  be  very  weak-minded  if  he  could  be  im 
posed  upon  by  such  nonsense.  Her  delicate  lip  curled 
with  a  little  contempt. 


THE   HEART    OF   KOME  105 

44 Is  that  the  great  secret?"  she  asked.  "I  thought 
you  were  in  earnest." 

"  The  Senator  is,"  observed  Malipieri  drily. 

"  If  the  old  gentleman  has  made  you  believe  that  he 
is,  he  must  have  some  very  deep  scheme.  He  does  not 
like  to  seem  foolish." 

Malipieri  did  not  answer  at  once,  but  he  betrayed  no 
annoyance.  In  the  short  silence,  he  could  hear  the 
Baroness's  powerful  voice  yelling  at  the  telephone.  It 
ceased  suddenly,  and  he  guessed  that  she  was  coming 
back. 

"  If  I  find  anything,  I  wish  you  to  see  it  before  any 
one  else  does,"  he  said  quickly. 

"  That  would  be  very  amusing !  "  Sabina  laughed 
incredulously,  just  as  the  door  opened. 

The  Baroness  heard  the  light  laughter,  and  stood 
still  with  her  hand  on  the  latch,  as  if  she  had  forgotten 
something.  She  was  not  a  woman  of  sudden  intuitions 
nor  much  given  to  acting  on  impulses,  and  when  a  new 
idea  crossed  her  mind  she  almost  always  paused  to 
think  it  over,  no  matter  what  she  chanced  to  be  doing. 
It  was  as  if  she  had  accidentally  run  against  something 
which  stunned  her  a  little. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Sabina,  very  naturally. 

The  Baroness  beckoned  silently  to  her,  and  she 
rose. 

"  Only  one  moment,  Signer  Malipieri,"  said  the 
Baroness,  apologizing  for  leaving  him  alone. 

When  she  and  Sabina  were  out  of  the  room,  she  shut 
the  door  and  went  on  a  few  paces  before  speaking. 


106  THE   HEART   OF    ROME 

"  My  husband  has  telephoned  that  he  cannot  leave 
the  Senate,"  she  said. 

"  Well  ?  "     Sabina  did  not  understand. 

"  But  Malipieri  has  come  expressly  to  see  him." 

"  He  can  see  him  at  the  Senate,"  suggested  Sabina. 

"  But  I  have  asked  Malipieri  to  stay  to  luncheon. 
If  I  tell  him  that  my  husband  is  not  coming,  perhaps 
he  will  not  stay  after  all." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  echoed  Sabina  with  great  calmness. 

"  You  do  not  seem  to  care,"  said  the  Baroness. 

"  Why  should  I  ?  " 

"  I  thought  you  liked  him.  I  thought  it  would 
amuse  you  if  he  lunched  with  us." 

Sabina  looked  at  her  with  some  curiosity. 

"  Did  you  tell  the  Baron  that  Signor  Malipieri  is 
here  ?  "  she  asked  carelessly. 

"  No,"  answered  the  Baroness,  looking  away.  "  As 
my  husband  said  he  could  not  come  to  luncheon,  it 
seemed  useless." 

Sabina  understood  now,  and  smiled.  This  was  the 
direct  consequence  of  the  talk  which  had  preceded 
Malipieri's  coming ;  the  Baroness  had  at  once  con 
ceived  the  idea  of  marrying  her  to  Malipieri. 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?  "  asked  the  Baroness. 

"  Whatever  you  think  best,"  answered  Sabina,  with 
sudden  meekness.  "  I  think  you  ought  at  least  to 
tell  Signor  Malipieri  that  the  Baron  is  not  coming. 
He  may  be  in  a  hurry,  you  know.  He  may  be  wasting 
time." 

The  Baroness  smiled  incredulously. 


THE   HEART    OF    ROME  107 

"  My  dear,"  she  said,  "  if  he  had  been  so  very  anxious 
to  see  my  husband,  he  would  have  gone  to  the  Senate 
first.  It  is  near  the  palace." 

She  said  no  more,  but  led  the  way  back  to  the 
morning  room,  while  Sabina  reflected  upon  the  possible 
truth  of  the  last  suggestion,  and  wondered  whether 
Malipieri  had  really  made  his  visit  for  the  sake  of 
exchanging  a  few  words  with  her  rather  than  in  order 
to  see  Volterra.  The  Baroness  spoke  to  him  as  she 
opened  the  door. 

"My  husband  has  not  come  yet,"  she  said.  "We 
will  not  wait  for  him." 

She  rang  the  bell  to  order  luncheon,  and  Malipieri 
glanced  at  Sabina' s  face,  wondering  what  the  Baroness 
had  said  to  her,  for  it  was  not  reasonable  to  suppose 
that  the  two  had  left  the  room  in  order  to  consult  in 
secret  upon  the  question  of  waiting  for  Volterra.  But 
Sabina  did  not  meet  his  look,  and  her  pale  young  face 
was  impenetrably  calm,  for  she  was  thinking  about 
what  she  had  just  discovered.  She  was  as  certain 
that  she  knew  what  had  passed  in  the  Baroness's 
thoughts,  as  if  the  latter  had  spoken  aloud.  The 
knowledge,  for  it  amounted  to  that,  momentarily 
chased  away  the  recollection  of  what  Malipieri  had 
said. 

It  was  rather  amusing  to  be  looked  upon  as  mar 
riageable,  and  to  a  man  she  already  knew.  Her 
mother  had  often  talked  to  her  with  cynical  frankness, 
telling  her  that  she  was  to  make  the  best  match  that 
could  be  obtained  for  her,  naming  numbers  of  young  men 


108  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

she  had  never  seen  and  assuring  her  that  likes  and 
dislikes  had  nothing  to  do  with  matrimony.  They 
came  afterwards,  the  Princess  said,  and  it  generally 
pleased  Providence  to  send  a  mild  form  of  aversion  as 
the  permanent  condition  of  the  bond.  But  Sabina 
had  never  believed  her  mother,  who  had  cheated  her 
when  she  was  a  child,  as  many  foolish  and  heartless 
women  do,  promising  rewards  which  were  never  given, 
and  excursions  which  were  always  put  off  and  little 
joys  which  always  turned  to  sorrows  less  little  by 
far. 

Moreover,  her  sister  Clementina  had  told  her  that 
there  was  only  one  way  to  treat  the  world,  and  that 
was  to  leave  it  with  the  contempt  it  deserved  ;  and 
she  had  heard  her  brother  tell  his  wife  in  one  of  his 
miserable  fits  of  weakly  brutal  anger  that  marriage 
was  hell,  and  nothing  else  ;  to  which  the  young  prin 
cess  had  coldly  replied  that  he  was  only  where  he 
deserved  to  be.  Sabina  had  not  been  brought  up 
with  the  traditional  pious  and  proper  views  about 
matrimony,  and  if  she  did  not  think  even  worse  of  it, 
the  merit  was  due  to  her  own  nature,  in  which  there 
was  much  good  and  hardly  any  real  evil. 

But  she  could  not  escape  from  a  little  inherited  and 
acquired  cynicism  either,  and  while  Malipieri  chatted 
quietly  during  luncheon,  an  explanation  of  the  whole 
matter  occurred  to  her  which  was  not  pleasant  to 
contemplate.  The  story  about  the  treasure  might  or 
might  not  be  true,  but  he  believed  in  it,  and  so  did 
Volterra.  The  Baron  was  therefore  employing  him 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  109 

to  discover  the  prize.  But  Malipieri  showed  plainly 
that  he  wished  her  to  possess  it,  if  it  were  ever  found, 
and  perhaps  he  meant  it  to  be  her  dowry,  in  which 

case  it  would  come  into  his  own  hands   if   he  could 

t 

marry  her.  This  was  ingenious,  if  it  was  nothing 
else,  and  though  Sabina  felt  that  there  was  something 
mean  about  it,  she  resented  the  idea  that  he  should 
expect  her  to  think  him  a  model  of  generosity  when 
she  hardly  knew  him. 

She  was  therefore  very  quiet,  and  looked  at  him 
rather  coldly  when  he  spoke  to  her,  but  the  Baroness 
put  this  down  to  her  admirably  correct  manners,  and 
was  already  beginning  to  consider  how  she  could 
approach  Malipieri  on  the  subject  of  his  marrying 
Sabina.  She  was  quite  in  ignorance  of  the  business 
which  had  brought  him  and  her  husband  together,  as 
Sabina  now  knew  from  many  remarks  she  remembered. 
Volterra  was  accustomed  to  tell  his  wife  what  he  had 
been  doing  when  the  matter  was  settled,  and  she  had 
long  ago  given  up  trying  to  make  him  talk  of  his 
affairs  when  he  chose  to  be  silent. 

On  the  whole,  so  far  as  Sabina  was  concerned,  the 
circumstances  were  not  at  first  very  favourable  to  the 
Baroness's  newly  formed  plan  on  this  occasion,  thougii 
she  did  not  know  it.  On  the  other  hand,  Malipieri 
discovered  before  luncheon  was  over,  that  Sabina  in 
terested  him  very  much,  that  she  was  much  prettier 
than  he  had  realized  at  his  first  meeting  with  her,  and 
that  he  had  unconsciously  thought  about  her  a  good 
deal  in  the  interval. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

MALIPIERI  was  convinced  before  long  that  his  doings 
interested  some  one  who  was  able  to  employ  men  to 
watch  him,  and  he  connected  the  fact  with  Bruni's 
visit.  He  was  not  much  disturbed  by  it,  however,  and 
was  careful  not  to  show  that  he  noticed  it  at  all.  Nat 
urally  enough,  he  supposed  that  his  short  career  as  a 
promoter  of  republican  ideas  had  caused  him  to  be  re 
membered  as  a  dangerous  person,  and  that  a  careful 
ministry  was  anxious  to  know  why  he  lived  alone  in  a 
vast  palace,  in  the  heart  of  Rome,  knowing  very  few 
people  and  seeing  hardly  any  one  except  Volterra. 
The  Baron  himself  was  apparently  quite  indifferent  to 
any  risk  in  the  matter,  and  yet,  as  a  staunch  monarch 
ist  and  supporter  of  the  ministry  then  in  office,  it  might 
have  been  expected  that  he  would  not  openly  associate 
with  the  monarchy's  professed  enemies.  That  was  his 
affair,  as  Malipieri  had  frankly  told  him  at  the  begin 
ning.  For  the  rest,  the  young  architect  smiled  as  he 
thought  of  the  time  and  money  the  government  was 
wasting  on  the  supposition  that  he  was  plotting  against 
it,  but  it  annoyed  him  to  find  that  certain  faces  of  men 
in  the  streets  were  becoming  familiar  to  him,  quiet, 
blank  faces  of  respectable  middle-aged  men,  who  always 
avoided  meeting  his  eyes,  and  were  very  polite  in  stand- 

110 


THE  HEART   OF   ROME  111 

ing  aside  to  let  him  pass  them  on  the  pavement.  There 
were  now  three  whom  he  knew  by  sight,  and  he  saw 
one  of  them  every  time  he  went  out  of  the  house.  He 
knew  what  that  meant.  He  had  not  the  smallest  doubt 
but  that  all  three  reported  what  they  saw  of  his  move 
ments  to  Signor  Vittorio  Bruni,  every  day,  in  some  par 
ticularly  quiet  little  office  in  one  of  the  government 
buildings  connected  with  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior. 
It  troubled  him  very  little,  since  he  was  quite  innocent 
of  any  political  machinations  for  the  present. 

He  had  determined  from  the  first  not  to  employ  any 
workmen  to  help  him  unless  it  should  be  absolutely 
necessary.  He  was  strong  and  his  practical  experience 
in  Carthage  had  taught  him  the  use  of  pick  and  crow 
bar.  Masin  was  equal  to  two  ordinary  men  for  such 
work,  and  could  be  trusted  to  hold  his  tongue. 

Malipieri  told  the  porter  that  he  was  exploring  the 
foundations  before  attempting  to  strengthen  them,  and 
from  time  to  time  he  gave  him  a  little  money.  At  first 
the  old  man  offered  to  call  Toto,  who  had  always  served 
the  house,  he  said  ;  but  Malipieri  answered  that  no  help 
was  needed  in  a  mere  preliminary  exploration,  and  that 
another  man  would  only  be  in  the  way.  He  made  no 
secret  of  the  fact  that  he  was  working  with  his  own 
hands,  however.  Every  morning,  he  and  his  servant 
went  down  into  the  north-west  cellars  by  a  winding 
staircase  that  was  entered  from  a  passage  between  the 
disused  stables  and  the  empty  coach-house.  Like  every 
large  Roman  palace,  the  Palazzo  Conti  had  two  arched 
entrances,  one  of  which  had  never  been  opened  except 


112  THE  HEART   OF   KOME 

on  important  occasions,  when  the  carriages  that  drove 
in  on  the  one  side  drove  out  at  the  other  after  their 
owner  had  alighted.  This  second  gate  was  at  the  west 
end  of  the  court,  not  far  from  the  coach-house.  To 
reach  their  work  Malipieri  and  Masin  had  to  go  down 
the  grand  staircase  and  pass  the  porter's  lodge.  Masin 
wore  the  rough  clothes  of  a  working  mason  and  Mali 
pieri  appeared  in  overalls  and  a  heavy  canvas  jacket. 
Very  soon  the  garments  of  both  were  so  effectually' 
stained  with  mud,  green  mould  and  water  that  the  two 
men  could  hardly  have  been  distinguished  from  ordi 
nary  day  labourers,  even  in  broad  daylight. 

They  began  work  on  the  very  spot  at  which  the  snuffy 
little  expert  had  stopped  to  listen  to  the  water.  It  was 
evidently  out  of  the  question  to  break  through  the  wall 
at  the  level  of  the  cellar  floor,  for  the  water  could  be 
heard  running  steadily  through  its  hidden  channel,  and 
if  this  were  opened  the  cellars  might  be  completely 
flooded.  Besides,  Malipieri  knew  that  the  water  might 
rise  unexpectedly  to  a  considerable  height. 

It  was  therefore  best  to  make  the  opening  as  high  as 
possible,  under  the  vault,  which  at  that  point  was  not 
more  than  ten  feet  from  the  ground.  The  simplest 
plan  would  have  been  to  put  up  a  small  scaffolding  on 
which  to  work,  but  there  was  no  timber  suitable  for 
the  purpose  in  the  cellar,  and  Malipieri  did  not  wish  to 
endanger  the  secrecy  of  his  operations  by  having  any 
brought  down.  He  therefore  set  to  work  to  excavate 
an  inclined  aperture,  like  a  tunnel,  which  began  at  a 
height  of  about  five  feet  and  was  intended  to  slope 


THE   HEART    OF   ROME  113 

upwards  so  as  to  reach  the  interior  chamber  at  the 
highest  point  practicable. 

It  was  very  hard  work  at  first,  and  it  was  not  un 
attended  by  danger.  Masin  declared  at  the  outset  that 
it  was  impracticable  without  blasting.  The  wall  ap 
peared  to  be  built  of  solid  blocks  of  travertine  stone, 
rough  hewn  on  the  face  but  neatly  fitted  together.  It 
would  take  two  men  several  days  to  loosen  a  single 
one  of  these  blocks,  and  if  they  finally  succeeded  in 
moving  it,  it  must  fall  to  the  ground  at  once,  for 
their  united  strength  would  not  have  sufficed  to  lower 
it  gently. 

"  The  facing  is  stone,"  said  Malipieri,  "  but  we  shall 
find  bricks  behind  it.  If  we  do  not,  we  must  try  to  get 
in  by  some  other  way." 

In  order  to  get  any  leverage  at  all,  it  was  necessary 
to  chisel  out  a  space  between  the  first  block  to  be  moved 
and  those  that  touched  it,  an  operation  which  occupied 
two  whole  days.  Masin  worked  doggedly  and  system 
atically,  and  Malipieri  imitated  him  as  well  as  he  could, 
but  more  than  once  nearly  blinded  himself  with  the  fly 
ing  chips  of  stone,  and  though  he  was  strong  his  hands 
ached  and  trembled  at  the  end  of  the  day,  so  that  he 
could  hardly  hold  a  pen.  To  Masin  it  was  easy  enough, 
and  was  merely  a  question  of  time  and  patience.  He 
begged  Malipieri  to  let  him  do  it  alone,  but  the  archi 
tect  would  not  hear  of  that,  since  there  was  room  for 
two  to  use  their  tools  at  the  same  time,  at  opposite  ends 
of  the  block.  He  was  in  haste  to  get  over  the  first 
obstacle,  which  he  believed  to  be  by  far  the  most  diffi- 


114  THE   HEART    OF   ROME 

cult,  and  he  was  not  the  kind  of  man  to  sit  idly  watch 
ing  another  at  work  without  trying  to  help  him. 

On  the  third  day  they  made  an  attempt  to  use  a 
crowbar.  They  had  two  very  heavy  ones,  but  they 
did  not  try  to  use  both,  and  united  their  strength 
upon  one  only.  They  might  as  well  have  tried  to 
move  the  whole  palace,  and  it  looked  as  if  they  would 
be  obliged  to  cut  the  block  itself  away  with  hammer 
and  chisel,  a  labour  of  a  fortnight,  perhaps,  consider 
ing  the  awkward  position  in  which  they  had  to  work. 

"  One  dynamite  cartridge  would  do  it !  "  laughed 
Malipieri,  as  he  looked  at  the  huge  stone. 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  answered  Masin,  taking  the  sug 
gestion  seriously.  "  I  have  been  in  the  galleys  seven 
years,  and  that  is  enough  for  a  lifetime.  We  must  try 
and  split  it  with  wedges." 

"  There  is  no  other  way." 

They  had  all  the  tools  necessary  for  the  old-fashioned 
operation ;  three  drilling  irons,  of  different  sizes,  and 
a  small  sledge-hammer,  and  they  went  to  work  with 
out  delay.  Malipieri  held  the  iron  horizontally  against 
the  stone  with  both  hands,  turning  it  a  little  after 
Masin  had  struck  it  with  the  sledge.  It  was  very 
exhausting  after  a  time,  as  the  whole  weight  of  the 
tool  was  at  first  carried  by  Malipieri's  uplifted  hands. 
Moreover,  if  he  forgot  to  grasp  it  very  firmly,  the 
vibration  of  the  blow  made  the  palms  of  his  hands 
sting  till  they  were  numb.  At  regular  intervals  the 
men  changed  places,  Masin  held  the  drill  and  Malipieri 
took  the  hammer.  Every  now  and  then  they  raked 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  115 

out  the  dust  from  the  deepening  hole  with  a  little 
round  scoop  made  for  the  purpose  and  riveted  to  the 
end  of  a  light  iron  rod  a  yard  long. 

Hour  after  hour  they  toiled  thus  together,  far  down 
under  the  palace,  in  the  damp,  close  air,  that  was  cold 
and  }^et  stifling  to  breathe.  The  hole  was  now  over 
two  feet  deep. 

Suddenly,  as  Masin  delivered  a  heavy  blow,  the  drill 
ran  in  an  inch  instead  of  recoiling  in  Malipieri's  tight 
hold. 

"  Bricks,"  said  Masin,  resting  on  the  haft  of  the  long 
hammer. 

Malipieri  removed  the  drill,  took  the  scoop  and 
drew  out  the  dust  and  minute  chips.  Hitherto  the 
stuff  had  been  grey,  but  now,  as  he  held  his  hand 
under  the  round  hole  to  catch  what  came,  a  little  bit 
of  dark  red  brick  fell  into  his  palm.  He  picked  it  out 
carefully  and  held  it  close  to  the  bright  unshaded 
lamp. 

"  Roman  brick,"  he  said,  after  a  moment. 

"  We  are  not  in  Milan,"  observed  Masin,  by  way  of 
telling  his  master  that  he  did  not  understand. 

"  Ancient  Roman  brick,"  said  Malipieri.  "  It  is  just 
what  I  expected.  This  is  part  of  the  wall  of  an  old 
Roman  building,  built  of  bricks  and  faced  with  traver 
tine.  If  we  can  get  this  block  out,  the  worst  will  be 
over." 

"  It  is  easier  to  drill  holes  in  stone  than  in  water," 
said  Masin,  who  had  put  his  ear  to  the  hole.  "  I  can 
hear  it  much  louder  now." 


116  THE   HEART   OF  BOME 

"  Of  course  you  can,"  answered  Malipieri.  "  We 
are  wasting  time,"  he  added,  picking  up  the  drill  and 
holding  it  against  the  block  at  a  point  six  inches  higher 
than  before. 

Masin  took  his  sledge  again  and  hammered  away 
with  dogged  regularity.  So  the  work  went  on  all 
that  day,  and  all  the  next.  And  after  that  they  took 
another  tool  and  widened  the  holes,  and  then  a  third 
till  they  were  two  inches  in  diameter. 

Masin  suggested  that  they  might  drive  an  iron  on 
through  the  brickwork,  and  find  out  how  much  of  it 
there  was  beyond  the  stone,  but  Malipieri  pointed  out 
that  if  the  "  lost  water  "  should  rise  it  would  pour  out 
through  the  hole  and  stop  their  operations  effectually. 
The  entrance  must  incline  upwards,  he  said. 

They  made  long  round  plugs  of  soft  pine  to  fit  the 
holes  exactly,  each  one  scored  with  a  channel  a  quarter 
of  an  inch  deep,  which  was  on  the  upper  side  when 
they  had  driven  the  plugs  into  their  places,  and  was 
intended  to  lead  the  water  along  the  wood,  so  as  to 
wet  it  more  thoroughly.  To  do  this  Malipieri  poked 
long  cotton  wicks  into  each  channel  with  a  wire,  as 
far  as  possible.  He  made  Masin  buy  half-a-dozen 
coarse  sponges  and  tied  one  upon  the  upper  end  of 
each  projecting  plug.  Finally  he  wet  all  the  sponges 
thoroughly  and  wound  coarse  cloths  loosely  round 
them  to  keep  in  as  much  of  the  water  as  possible.  By 
pouring  on  water  from  time  to  time  the  soft  wood  was 
to  be  ultimately  wet  through,  the  wicks  leading  the 
moisture  constantly  inward,  and  in  the  end  the  great 


THE   HEART  OF   KOME  117 

block  must  inevitably  be  split  into  halves.  It  is  the 
prehistoric  method,  and  there  never  was  any  other 
way  of  cleaving  very  hard  stone  until  gunpowder  first 
brought  in  blasting.  It  is  slow,  but  it  is  quite  sure. 

The  place  where  the  two  men  had  been  working  was 
many  feet  below  the  level  of  the  courtyard,  but  the 
porter  could  now  and  then  hear  the  sound  of  blows 
echoing  underground  through  the  vast  empty  cellars, 
even  when  he  stood  near  the  great  entrance. 

Toto  heard  the  noise  too,  one  day,  as  he  was  stand 
ing  still  to  light  his  pipe  in  the  Vicolo  dei  Soldati. 
When  it  struck  his  ear  he  let  the  match  burn  out  till 
it  singed  his  horny  fingers.  His  expression  became 
even  more  blank  than  usual,  but  he  looked  up  and 
down  the  street,  to  see  if  he  were  alone,  and  upward 
at  the  windows  of  the  house  opposite.  Nobody  was  in 
sight,  but  in  order  to  place  his  ear  close  to  the  wall 
and  listen,  he  made  a  pretence  of  fastening  his  shoe 
string.  The  sound  came  to  him  from  very  far  beneath, 
regular  as  the  panting  of  an  engine.  He  knew  his 
trade,  and  recognized  the  steady  hammering  on  the 
end  of  a  stone  drill,  very  unlike  the  irregular  blows  of 
a  pickaxe  or  a  crowbar.  The  "  moles  "  were  at  work, 
and  knew  their  business;  sooner  or  later  they  would 
break  through.  But  Toto  could  not  guess  that  the  work 
was  being  actually  done  by  Malipieri  and  his  servant, 
without  help.  One  man  alone  could  not  do  it,  and  the 
profound  contempt  of  the  artisan  for  any  outsider  who 
attempts  his  trade,  made  Toto  feel  quite  sure  that  one 
or  more  masons  had  been  called  in  to  make  a  breach 


118  THE   HEART    OF   ROME 

in  the  foundation  wall.  As  he  stood  up  and  lighted 
his  pipe  at  last,  he  grinned  all  alone,  and  then  slouched 
on,  his  heart  full  of  very  evil  designs.  Had  he  not 
always  been  the  mason  of  the  Palazzo  Conti?  And 
his  father  before  him  ?  And  his  grandfather,  who  had 
lost  his  life  down  there,  where  the  moles  were  work 
ing?  And  now  that  he  was  turned  out,  and  others 
were  called  in  to  do  a  particularly  confidential  job, 
should  he  not  be  revenged?  He  bit  his  pipe  and 
thrust  his  rough  hands  deep  into  the  pockets  of  his 
fustian  trousers,  and  instead  of  turning  into  the  wine 
shop  to  meet  Gigi,  he  went  off  for  a  walk  by  himself 
through  all  the  narrow  and  winding  streets  that  lie 
between  the  Palazzo  Conti  and  Monte  Giordano. 

He  came  to  no  immediate  conclusion,  and  moreover 
there  was  no  great  hurry.  He  knew  well  enough  that 
it  would  take  time  to  pierce  the  wall,  after  the  drilling 
was  over,  and  he  could  easily  tell  when  that  point  was 
reached  by  listening  every  day  in  the  Vicolo  dei  Soldati. 
It  would  still  be  soon  enough  to  play  tricks  with  the 
water,  if  he  chose  that  form  of  vengeance,  and  he 
grinned '  again  as  he  thought  of  the  vast  expense  he 
could  force  upon  Volterra  in  order  to  save  the  palace. 
But  he  might  do  something  else.  Instead  of  flooding 
the  cellars  and  possibly  drowning  the  masons  who  had 
ousted  him,  he  could  turn  informer  and  defeat  the 
schemes  of  Volterra  and  Malipieri,  for  he  never 
doubted  but  that  if  they  found  anything  of  value  they 
meant  to  keep  the  whole  profit  of  it  to  themselves. 

He  had  the  most  vague  notions  of  what  the  treasure 


THE    HEART    OF    ROME  119 

might  be.  When  the  fatal  accident  had  happened  his 
grandfather  had  been  the  only  man  who  had  actually 
penetrated  into  the  innermost  hiding-place  ;  the  rest 
had  fled  when  the  water  rose  and  had  left  him  to 
drown.  They  had  seen  nothing,  and  their  story  had 
been  handed  down  as  a  mere  record  of  the  catastrophe. 
Toto  knew  at  least  that  the  vaults  had  then  been  en 
tered  from  above,  which  was  by  far  the  easier  way,  but 
a  new  pavement  had  long  ago  covered  all  traces  of  the 
aperture. 

There  was  probably  gold  down  there,  gold  of  the 
ancients,  in  earthen  jars.  That  was  Toto's  belief, 
and  he  also  believed  that  when  it  was  found  it  would 
belong  to  the  government,  because  the  government 
took  everything,  but  that  somehow,  in  real  justice,  it 
should  belong  to  the  Pope.  For  Toto  was  not  only  a 
genuine  Roman  of  the  people,  but  had  always  regarded 
himself  as  a  sort  of  hereditary  retainer  of  an  ancient 
house. 

His  mind  worked  slowly.  A  day  passed,  and  he 
heard  the  steady  hammering  still,  and  after  a  second 
night  he  reached  a  final  conclusion.  The  Pope  must 
have  the  treasure,  whatever  it  might  be. 

That,  he  decided,  was  the  only  truly  moral  view,  and 
the  only  one  which  satisfied  his  conscience.  It  would 
doubtless  be  very  amusing  to  be  revenged  on  the 
masons  by  drowning  them  in  a  cellar,  with  the  abso 
lute  certainty  of  never  being  suspected  of  the  deed. 
The  plan  had  great  attractions.  The  masons  them 
selves  should  have  known  better  than  to  accept  a  job 


120  THE   HEART    OF   ROME 

which  belonged  by  right  to  him,  and  they  undoubtedly 
deserved  to  be  drowned.  Yet  Toto  somehow  felt  that 
as  there  was  no  woman  in  the  case  he  might  some  day, 
in  his  far  old  age,  be  sorry  for  having  killed  several 
men  in  cold  blood.  It  was  really  not  strictly  moral, 
after  all,  especially  as  his  grandfather's  death  had  been 
properly  avenged  by  the  death  of  the  murderer. 

As  for  allowing  the  government  to  have  a  share  in 
the  profits  of  the  discovery,  that  was  not  to  be  thought 
of.  He  was  a  Roman,  and  the  Italian  government  was 
his  natural  enemy.  If  he  could  have  turned  all  the 
"  lost  water  "  in  the  city  upon  the  whole  government 
collectively,  in  the  cellars  of  the  Palazzo  Conti,  he 
would  have  felt  that  it  was  strictly  moral  to  do  so. 
The  government  had  stolen  more  than  two  years  of  his 
life  by  making  him  serve  in  the  army,  and  he  was  not 
going  to  return  good  for  evil.  With  beautiful  sim 
plicity  of  reasoning  he  cursed  the  souls  of  the  govern 
ment's  dead  daily,  as  if  it  had  been  a  family  of  his 
acquaintance. 

But  the  Pope  was  quite  another  personage.  There 
had  always  been  popes,  and  there  always  would  be  till 
the  last  judgment,  and  everything  connected  with  the 
Vatican  would  last  as  long  as  the  world  itself.  Toto 
was  a  conservative.  His  work  had  always  kept  him 
among  lasting  things  of  brick  and  stone,  and  he  was 
proud  of  never  having  taken  a  day's  wages  for  helping 
to  put  up  the  modern  new-fangled  buildings  he  de 
spised.  The  most  lasting  of  all  buildings  in  the  world 
was  the  Vatican,  and  the  most  permanent  institution 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  121 

conceivable  was  the  Pope.  Gigi,  who  made  wretched, 
perishable  objects  of  wood  and  nails  and  glue,  such  as 
doors  and  windows,  sometimes  launched  into  modern 
ideas.  Toto  would  have  liked  to  know  how  many 
times  the  doors  and  windows  of  the  Palazzo  Conti  had 
been  renewed  since  the  walls  had  been  built !  He 
pitied  Gigi  always,  and  sometimes  he  despised  him, 
though  they  were  good  friends  enough  in  the  ordinary 
sense. 

The  Pope  should  have  the  treasure.  That  was  set 
tled,  and  the  only  question  remaining  concerned  the 
means  of  transferring  it  to  him  when  it  was  discovered. 


CHAPTER   IX 

ONE  evening  it  chanced  that  the  Volterra  couple 
were  dining  out,  and  that  Sabina,  having  gone  up  to 
her  room  to  spend  the  evening,  had  forgotten  the 
book  she  was  reading  and  came  downstairs  half-an- 
hour  later  to  get  it.  She  opened  the  drawing-room 
door  and  went  straight  to  the  table  on  which  she  had 
left  the  volume.  As  she  turned  to  go  back  she  started 
and  uttered  a  little  cry,  almost  of  terror. 

Malipieri  was  standing  before  the  mantelpiece,  look 
ing  at  her. 

"I  am  afraid  I  frightened  you,"  he  said  quietly. 
"Pray  forgive  me." 

"Not  at  all,"  Sabina  answered,  resting  the  book  she 
held  in  her  hand  upon  the  edge  of  the  table.  "  I  did 
not  know  any  one  was  here." 

"  I  said  I  would  wait  till  the  Senator  came  home," 
Malipieri  said. 

"  Yes."  Sabina  hesitated  a  moment  and  then  sat 
down. 

She  smiled,  perhaps  at  herself.  In  her  mother's 
house  it  would  have  been  thought  extremely  improper 
for  her  to  be  left  alone  with  a  young  man  during  ten 
minutes,  but  she  knew  that  the  Baroness  held  much 
more  modern  views,  and  would  probably  be  delighted 

122 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  123 

that  she  and  Malipieri  should  spend  an  hour  together. 
He  had  been  asked  to  luncheon  again,  but  had  de 
clined  on  the  ground  of  being  too  busy,  much  to  the 
Baroness's  annoyance. 

Malipieri  seated  himself  on  a  small  chair  at  a  discreet 
distance. 

"  I  happened  to  know  that  they  were  going  out,"  he 
said,  "so  I  came." 

Sabina  looked  at  him  in  surprise.  It  was  an  odd 
way  to  begin  a  conversation. 

"I  wanted  to  see  you  alone,"  he  explained.  "I 
thought  perhaps  you  would  come  down." 

"  It  was  an  accident,"  Sabina  answered.  "  I  had 
left  my  book  here.  No  one  told  me  that  you  had 
come." 

"  Of  course  not.  I  took  the  chance  that  a  lucky 
accident  might  happen.  It  has,  but  I  hope  you  are 
not  displeased.  If  you  are,  you  can  turn  me  out." 

"I  could  go  back  to  my  room."  Sabina  laughed. 
"Why  should  I  be  displeased?" 

"I  have  not  the  least  idea  whether  you  like  me  or 
not,"  answered  Malipieri. 

Sabina  wondered  whether  all  men  talked  like  this, 
or  whether  it  were  not  more  usual  to  begin  with  a 
few  generalities.  She  was  really  quite  sure  that  she 
liked  Malipieri,  but  it  was  a  little  embarrassing  to  be 
called  upon  to  tell  him  so  at  once. 

"If  I  wanted  you  to  go  away,  I  should  not  sit 
down,"  she  said,  still  smiling. 

"  I   hate   conventions,"  answered  Malipieri,  "  and  I 


124  THE  HEART  OF   ROME 

fancy  that  you  do,  too.  We  were  both  brought  up 
in  them,  and  I  suppose  we  think  alike  about  them." 

"Perhaps." 

Sabina  turned  over  the  book  she  still  held,  and 
looked  at  the  back  of  it. 

"Exactly,"  continued  Malipieri.  "But  I  do  not 
mean  that  what  we  are  doing  now  is  so  dreadfully 
unconventional  after  all.  Thank  heaven,  manners 
have  changed  since  I  was  a  boy,  and  even  in  Italy 
we  may  be  allowed  to  talk  together  a  few  minutes 
without  being  suspected  of  planning  a  runaway  mar 
riage.  I  wanted  to  see  you  alone  because  I  wish  you 
to  do  something  very  much  more  '  improper,'  as  society 
calls  it." 

Sabina  looked  up  with  innocent  and  inquiring  eyes, 
but  said  nothing  in  answer. 

"  I  have  found  something,"  he  said.  "  I  should  like 
you  to  see  it." 

"  There  is  nothing  so  very  terrible  in  that,"  replied 
Sabina,  looking  at  him  steadily. 

"The  world  would  think  differently.  But  if  you 
will  trust  me  the  world  need  never  know  anything 
about  it.  You  will  have  to  come  alone.  That  is  the 
difficulty." 

"  Alone  ?  "  Sabina  repeated  the  word,  and  instinc 
tively  drew  herself  up  a  little. 

"Yes." 

A  short  silence  followed,  and  Malipieri  waited  for 
her  to  speak,  but  she  hesitated.  In  years,  she  was 
but  lately  out  of  childhood,  but  the  evil  of  the  world 


THE   HEART   OF   BOMB  125 

had  long  been  near  her  in  her  mother's  house,  and 
she  knew  well  enough  that  if  she  did  what  he  asked, 
and  if  it  were  known,  her  reputation  would  be  gone. 
She  was  a  little  indignant  at  first,  and  was  on  the  point 
of  showing  it,  but  as  she  met  his  eyes  once  more  she 
felt  certain  that  he  meant  no  offence  to  her. 

"  You  must  have  a  very  good  reason  for  asking  me 
to  do  such  a  dangerous  thing,"  she  said  at  last. 

"The  reasons  are  complicated,"  answered  Mali- 
pieri. 

"Perhaps  I  could  understand,  if  you  explained 
them." 

"  Yes,  I  am  sure  you  can.  I  will  try.  In  the  first 
place,  you  know  of  the  story  about  a  treasure  being 
concealed  in  the  palace.  I  spoke  of  it  the  other  day, 
and  you  laughed  at  it.  When  I  began,  I  was  not 
inclined  to  believe  it  myself,  for  it  seems  never  to 
have  been  anything  more  than  a  tradition.  One  or 
two  old  chronicles  speak  of  it.  A  Venetian  ambassa 
dor  wrote  about  it  in  the  sixteenth  century  in  one  of 
his  reports  to  his  government,  suggesting  that  the 
Republic  should  buy  the  palace  if  it  were  ever  sold. 
I  daresay  you  have  heard  that." 

"  No.  It  does  not  matter.  You  say  you  have  found 
something  —  that  is  the  important  point." 

"Yes;  and  the  next  thing  is  to  keep  the  secret  for 
the  present,  because  so  many  people  would  like  to 
know  it.  The  third  point  of  importance  is  that  you 
should  see  the  treasure  before  it  is  moved,  before  I 
can  move  it  myself,  or  even  see  all  of  it." 


126  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"  What  is  this  treasure  ?  "  asked  Sabina,  with  a  little 
impatience,  for  she  was  really  interested. 

"All  I  have  seen  of  it  is  the  hand  of  what  must  be 
a  colossal  statue,  of  gilt  bronze.  On  one  of  the  fingers 
there  is  a  ring  with  a  stone  which  I  believe  to  be  a 
ruby.  If  it  is,  it  is  worth  a  great  deal,  perhaps  as 
much  as  the  statue  itself." 

Sabina's  eyes  had  opened  very  wide  in  her  surprise, 
for  she  had  never  really  believed  the  tale,  and  even 
when  he  had  told  her  that  he  had  found  something  she 
had  not  thought  it  could  be  anything  very  valuable. 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  you  have  seen  it  ?  "  she  asked 
with  childlike  wonder. 

"  Yes.  I  lowered  a  light  into  the  place,  but  I  did 
not  go  down.  There  may  be  other  things.  They 
belong  to  you." 

"  To  me  ?     Why  ?  "  asked  Sabina  in  surprise. 

"  For  a  good  many  reasons  which  may  or  may  not  be 
good  in  law  but  which  are  good  enough  for  me.  You 
were  robbed  of  your  dowry — forgive  the  expression. 
I  cannot  think  of  another  word.  The  Senator  got 
possession  of  the  palace  for  much  less  than  its  market 
value,  let  alone  what  I  have  found.  He  sent  for  me 
because  I  have  been  fortunate  in  finding  things,  and  he 
believed  it  just  possible  that  there  might  be  something 
hidden  in  the  foundations.  Your  family  spent  long 
ago  what  he  lent  them  on  the  mortgage,  and  Sassi 
assures  me  that  you  never  had  a  penny  of  it.  I  mean 
you  to  have  your  share  now.  That  is  all." 

Sabina  listened  quietly  enough  to  the  end. 


THE   HEAET   OF   ROME  127 

"  Thank  you,  very  much,"  she  said  gravely,  when  he 
had  finished. 

Then  there  was  another  pause.  To  her  imagination 
the  possibilities  of  wealth  seemed  fabulous,  and  even 
Malipieri  thought  them  large  ;  but  Sabina  was  not 
thinking  of  a  fortune  for  its  own  sake.  Of  late  none 
of  her  family  had  cared  for  money  except  to  spend  it 
without  counting.  What  struck  her  first  was  that  she 
would  be  free  to  leave  the  Volterras'  house,  that  she 
would  be  independent,  and  that  there  would  be  an  end 
of  the  almost  unbearable  situation  in  which  she  had 
lived  since  the  crash. 

"  If  the  Senator  can  keep  it  all  for  himself,  he  will," 
Malipieri  observed,  "  and  his  wife  will  help  him." 

"Do  you  think  this  had  anything  to  do  with  their 
anxiety  to  have  me  stay  with  them  ?  "  asked  Sabina, 
and  as  the  thought  occurred  to  her  the  expression  of 
her  eyes  changed. 

"  The  Baroness  knows  nothing  at  all  about  the  mat 
ter,"  answered  Malipieri.  "I  fancy  she  only  wanted 
the  social  glory  of  taking  charge  of  you  when  your 
people  came  to  grief.  But  her  husband  will  take 
advantage  of  the  obligation  you  are  under.  I  suspect 
that  he  will  ask  you  to  sign  a  paper  of  some  sort,  very 
vaguely  drawn  up,  but  legally  binding,  by  which  you 
will  make  over  to  him  all  claim  whatever  on  your 
father's  estate." 

"  But  I  have  none,  have  I  ?  " 

"If  the  facts  were  known  to-morrow,  your  brother 
might  at  once  begin  an  action  to  recover,  on  the  equi- 


128  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

table  ground  that  by  an  extraordinary  chain  of  circum 
stances  the  property  has  turned  out  to  be  worth  much 
more   than   any   one   could   have   expected.      Do   you 
understand  ?  " 
"Yes.     Goon." 

"  Very  well.  The  Senator  knows  that  in  all  proba 
bility  the  court  would  decide  against  your  brother,  who 
has  the  reputation  of  a  spendthrift,  unless  your  claim 
is  pushed  ;  but  that  any  honest  judge,  if  it  were  legally 
possible,  would  do  his  best  to  award  you  something.  If 
you  had  made  over  your  claim  to  Volterra,  that  would 
be  impossible,  and  would  only  strengthen  his  case." 
"I  see,"  said  Sabina.  "It  is  very  complicated." 
"  Of  course  it  is.  And  there  are  many  other  sides  to 
it.  The  Senator,  on  his  part,  is  as  anxious  to  keep  the 
whole  matter  a  secret  as  I  am,  for  your  sake.  He  has 
no  idea  that  there  is  a  colossal  statue  in  the  vaults. 
He  probably  hopes  to  find  gold  and  jewels  which  could 
be  taken  away  quietly  and  disposed  of  without  the 
knowledge  of  the  government." 

"  What  has  the  government  to  do  with  it  ?  " 
"  It  has  all  sorts  of  claims  on  such  discoveries,  and 
especially  on  works  of  art.     It  reserves  the  right   to 
buy  them  from  the  owners  at  a  valuation,  if  they  are 
sold   at  all." 

"Then    the    government    will    buy   this    statue,   I 
suppose." 

"  In  the  end,  unless  it  allows  the  Vatican  to  buy  it." 
"  I  do  not  see  what  is  going  to  happen,"  said  Sabina, 
growing  bewildered. 


THE   HEART  OF   KOME  129 

"The  Senator  must  make  everything  orer  to  you 
before  it  is  sold,"  answered  Malipieri  calmly. 

"  How  can  he  be  made  to  do  that  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  but  he  shall." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  the  law  can  force  him  to  ?  " 

"  The  law  might,  perhaps,  but  I  shall  find  some  much 
shorter  way." 

Sabina  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  But  he  employs  you  on  this  work,"  she  said 
suddenly. 

"Not  exactly."  Malipieri  smiled.  "I  would  not 
let  Volterra  pay  me  to  grub  underground  for  his 
benefit,  any  more  than  I  would  live  in  his  house  with 
out  paying  him  rent." 

Sabina  bit  her  lip  and  turned  her  face  away  suddenly, 
for  the  thoughtless  words  had  hurt  her. 

"  I  agreed  to  make  the  search  merely  because  I  am 
interested  in  archaeology,"  he  continued.  "  Until  I 
met  you  I  did  not  care  what  might  become  of  anything 
we  found  in  the  palace." 

"  Why  should  you  care  now?" 

The  question  rose  to  her  lips  before  she  knew  what 
she  was  saying,  for  what  had  gone  before  had  disturbed 
her  a  little.  It  had  been  a  very  cruel  speech,  though 
he  had  not  meant  it.  He  looked  at  her  thoughtfully. 

"  I  am  not  quite  sure  why  I  care,"  he  answered,  "but 
I  do." 

Neither  spoke  for  some  time. 

"I  suppose  you  pity  me,"  Sabina  observed  at  last, 
rather  resentfully. 


130  THE  HEART   OF   BOMB 

He  said  nothing. 

"  You  probably  felt  sorry  for  me  as  soon  as  you  saw 
me,"  she  continued,  leaning  back  in  her  chair  and 
speaking  almost  coldly.  "  I  am  an  object  of  pity,  of 
course  !" 

Malipieri  laughed  a  little  at  the  very  girlish  speech. 

"  No,"  he  answered.  "  I  had  not  thought  of  you  in 
that  light.  I  liked  you,  the  first  time  I  saw  you.  That 
is  much  simpler  than  pitying." 

He  laughed  again,  but  it  was  at  himself. 

"  You  treat  me  like  a  child,"  Sabina  said  with  a  little 
petulance.  "  You  have  no  right  to  !  " 

"  Shall  I  treat  you  like  a  woman,  Donna  Sabina  ?  "  he 
said,  suddenly  serious. 

"Yes.     I  am  sure  I  am  old  enough." 

"  If  you  were  not,  I  should  certainly  not  feel  as  I  do 
towards  you." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"If  you  are  a  woman,  you  probably  guess." 

"  No." 

"  You  may  be  offended,"  suggested  Malipieri. 

"Not  unless  you  are  rude — or  pity  me."  She 
smiled  now. 

"  Is  it  very  rude  to  like  a  person  ?  "  he  asked.  "  If 
you  think  it  is,  I  will  not  go  on." 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  said  Sabina  demurely,  and  she 
looked  down. 

"  In  that  case  it  is  wiser  not  to  run  the  risk  of 
offending  you  past  forgiveness  ! " 

It  was  very  amusing  to  hear  him  talk,  for  no  man 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  131 

.had  ever  talked  to  her  in  this  way  before.  She  knew 
Nt/hat  he  was  thought  immensely  clever,  but  he  did  not 
seem  at  all  superior  now,  and  she  was  glad  of  it.  She 
should  have  felt  very  foolish  if  he  had  discoursed  to 
her  learnedly  about  Carthage  and  antiquities.  Instead, 
he  was  simple  and  natural,  and  she  liked  him  very 
much  ;  and  the  little  devil  that  enters  into  every 
woman  about  the  age  of  sixteen  and  is  not  often  cast  out 
before  fifty,  even  by  prayer  and  fasting,  suddenly  pos 
sessed  her. 

"  Rudeness  is  not  always  past  forgiveness,"  she  said, 
with  a  sweet  smile. 

Malipieri  looked  at  her  gravely  and  wondered  whether 
he  had  any  right  to  take  up  the  challenge.  He  had 
never  been  in  love  with  a  young  girl  in  his  life,  and 
somehow  it  did  not  seem  fair  to  speak  as  he  had  been 
speaking.  It  was  very  odd  that  his  sense  of  honour 
should  assert  itself  just  then.  It  might  have  been  due 
to  the  artificial  traditions  of  generations  without  end, 
before  him.  At  the  same  time,  he  knew  something  of 
women,  and  in  her  last  speech  he  recognized  the  womanly 
cooing,  the  call  of  the  mate,  that  has  drawn  men  to 
happiness  or  destruction  ever  since  the  world  began. 
She  was  a  mere  girl,  of  course,  but  since  he  had  said 
so  much,  she  could  not  help  tempting  him  to  go  to  the 
end  and  tell  her  he  loved  her. 

Though  Malipieri  did  not  pretend  to  be  a  model  of 
all  the  virtues,  he  was  thoroughly  fair  in  all  his  deal 
ings,  according  to  his  lights,  and  just  then  he  would 
have  thought  it  the  contrary  of  fair  to  say  what  she 


132  THE   HEART   OF   BOMB 

seemed  to  expect.  He  knew  instinctively  that  no  one 
had  ever  said  it  to  her  before,  which  was  a  good  reason 
for  not  saying  it  lightly  ;  and  he  was  sure  that  he  could 
not  say  it  quite  seriously,  and  almost  certain  also  that 
she  had  not  even  begun  to  be  really  in  love  herself, 
though  he  felt  that  she  liked  him.  On  the  other  hand  — 
for  in  the  flash  of  a  second  he  argued  the  case  —  he  did 
not  feel  that  she  was  the  hypothetical  defenceless 
maiden,  helpless  to  resist  the  wiles  of  an  equally  hypo 
thetical  wicked  young  man.  She  had  been  brought  up 
by  a  worldly  mother  since  she  had  left  the  convent 
where  she  had  associated  with  other  girls,  most  of  whom 
also  had  worldly  mothers  ;  and  some  of  the  wildest 
blood  in  Europe  ran  in  her  veins. 

On  the  whole,  he  thought  it  would  be  justifiable  to 
tell  her  exactly  what  he  felt,  and  she  might  do  as  she 
pleased  about  answering  him. 

"  I  think  I  shall  fall  in  love  with  you  before  long," 
he  said,  with  almost  unnecessary  calmness. 

Sabina  had  not  expected  that  the  first  declaration 
she  received  in  her  life  would  take  this  mild  form,  but 
it  affected  her  much  more  strongly  than  she  could 
understand.  Her  hand  tightened  suddenly  on  the 
book  she  held,  and  she  noticed  a  little  fluttering  at 
her  heart  and  in  her  throat,  and  at  the  same  time 
she  was  conscious  of  a  tremendous  determination  not 
to  show  that  she  felt  anything  at  all,  but  to  act  as  if 
she  had  heard  just  such  things  before,  and  more  also. 

"  Indeed  !  "  she  said,  with  admirable  indifference. 

Malipieri  looked  at  her  in  surprise.     An  experienced 


*  THE  HEART   OF   ROME  133 

flirt  of  thirty  could  not  have  uttered  the  single  word 
more  effectively. 

"I  wonder  whether  you  will  ever  like  me  better 
than  you  do  now,"  he  said,  by  way  of  answer. 

She  was  wondering,  too,  but  it  was  not  likely  that 
she  would  admit  it. 

"  I  am  very  fickle,"  she  replied,  with  a  perfectly  self- 
possessed  little  laugh. 

"  So  am  I,"  Malipieri  answered,  following  her  lead. 
"My  most  desperate  love  affairs  have  never  lasted 
more  than  a  month  or  two." 

"  You  have  had  a  great  many,  I  daresay,"  Sabina 
observed,  with  no  show  of  interest.  She  was  amazed 
and  delighted  to  find  how  easy  it  was  to  act  her  new 
part. 

"And  you,"  he  asked,  laughing,  "how  often  have 
you  been  in  love  already?" 

"  Let  me  see  !  " 

She  turned  her  eyes  to  his,  without  turning  her 
head,  and  letting  the  book  lie  in  her  lap  she  pretended 
to  count  on  her  fingers.  He  watched  her  gravely,  and 
nodded  as  she  touched  each  finger,  as  if  he  were  count 
ing  with  her.  Suddenly  she  dropped  both  hands  and 
laughed  gaily. 

"  How  childish  you  are  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  How  deliciously  frank  you  are  ! "  he  retorted, 
laughing  with  her. 

It  was  mere  banter,  and  not  witty  at  that,  but  they 
were  growing  intimate  in  it,  much  faster  than  either  of 
them  realized,  for  it  was  the  first  time  they  had  been 


134  THE   HEART   OF    ROME 

able  to  talk  together  quite  without  constraint,  and  it 
was  the  very  first  time  Sabina  had  ever  had  a  chance 
of  talking  as  she  pleased  to  a  man  whom  she  really 
thought  young. 

Moreover  they  were  quite  modern  young  people,  and 
therefore  entirely  devoid  of  all  the  sentimentality  and 
"world-sorrow"  which  made  youth  so  delightfully 
gloomy  and  desperately  cynical,  without  the  least  real 
cynicism,  in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century.  In 
those  days  no  young  man  who  showed  a  ray  of  belief 
in  anything  had  a  chance  with  a  woman,  and  no  woman 
had  a  chance  with  men  unless  she  had  a  hidden  sor 
row.  Women  used  to  construct  themselves  a  secret 
and  romantic  grief  in  those  times,  with  as  much  skill 
as  they  bestowed  on  their  figure  and  face,  and  there 
were  men  who  spent  hours  in  reading  Schopenhauer  in 
order  to  pick  out  and  treasure  up  a  few  terribly  telling 
phrases  ;  and  love-making  turned  upon  the  myth  that 
life  was  not  worth  living. 

We  have  changed  all  that  now  ;  whether  for  better 
or  worse,  the  social  historians  of  the  future  will  decide 
for  us  after  we  are  dead,  so  we  need  not  trouble  our 
heads  about  the  decision  unless  we  set  up  to  be  moral 
ists  ourselves.  "'  The  enormous  tidal  wave  of  hypocrisy 
is  retiring,  and  if  the  shore  discovered  by  the  receding 
waves  is  here  and  there  horribly  devastated  and  hope 
lessly  bare,  it  is  at  least  dry  land. 

The  wave  covered  everything  for  a  long  time,  from 
religion  to  manners,  from  science  to  furniture,  and  we 
who  are  old  enough  to  remember,  and  not  old  enough 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  135 

to  regret,  are  rubbing  our  eyes  and  looking  about  us, 
as  on  a  new  world,  amazed  at  having  submitted  so  long 
to  what  we  so  heartily  despised,  glad  to  be  able  to 
speak  our  minds  at  last  about  many  things,  and  as 
tounded  that  people  should  at  last  be  allowed  to  be 
good  and  suffered  to  be  bad,  without  the  affectation  of 
seeming  one  or  the  other,  in  a  certain  accepted  manner 
governed  by  fashion,  and  imposed  by  a  civilized  and 
perfectly  intolerant  society. 

While  progress  advances,  it  really  looks  as  if  hu 
manity  were  reverting  to  its  types,  with  an  honest 
effort  at  simplicity.  There  is  a  revival  of  the  moral 
individuality  of  the  middle  ages.  The  despot  proudly 
says,  like  Alexander,  or  Montrose  in  love,  that  he  will 
reign,  and  he  will  reign  alone  ;  and  he  does.  The 
financier  plunders  mankind  and  does  not  pretend  that 
he  is  a  long-lost  type  of  philanthropist.  The  anarchist 
proclaims  that  it  is  virtuous  to  kill  kings,  and  he  kills 
them.  The  wicked  do  not  even  make  a  pretence  of 
going  to  church  on  Sundays.  If  this  goes  on,  we  shall 
have  saints  before  long. 

Hypocrisy  has  disappeared  even  from  literature, 
since  no  one  who  now  writes  books  fit  to  read  can  be 
supposed  to  do  so  out  of  respect  for  public  opinion,  still 
less  from  any  such  base  motive  as  a  desire  for  gain. 

Malipieri  and  Sabina  both  felt  that  they  had  been 
drawn  much  nearer  together  by  what  had  sounded  like 
idle  chatter,  and  yet  neither  of  them  was  inclined  to 
continue  talking  in  the  same  way.  Moreover  time  was 
passing  quickly,  and  there  was  a  matter  to  be  decided 


136  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

before  they  parted.  Malipieri  returned  to  the  subject 
of  his  discovery,  and  his  desire  that  Sabina  should 
see  it. 

"  But  I  cannot  possibly  come  to  the  palace  alone," 
she  objected.  "  It  is  quite  out  of  the  question.  Even 
if — "  she  stopped. 

"  What  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Even  if  I  were  willing  to  do  it  — "  she  hesitated 
again. 

"  You  are  not  afraid,  are  you  ?  "  There  was  a  slight 
intonation  of  irony  in  his  question. 

"No,  I  am  not  afraid."  She  paused  a  moment.  "I 
suppose  that  if  I  saw  a  way  of  coming,  I  would  come," 
she  said,  then.  "  But  I  see  no  way.  I  cannot  go  out 
alone.  Every  one  would  know  it.  There  would  be  a 
terrible  fuss  about  it !  " 

The  idea  evidently  amused  her. 

"  Could  you  come  with  Sassi  ? "  asked  Malipieri 
presently.  "He  is  respectable  enough  for  anything." 

"Even  that  would  be  thought  very  strange,"  an 
swered  Sabina.  "  I  have  no  good  reason  to  give  for 
going  out  alone  with  him." 

"  You  would  not  give  any  reason  till  afterwards, 
and  when  it  is  over  there  cannot  really  be  anything 
to  be  said  about  it.  The  Baroness  goes  out  every 
afternoon.  You  can  make  an  excuse  for  staying  at 
home  to-morrow,  and  then  you  will  be  alone  in  the 
house.  Sassi  will  call  for  you  in  a  closed  cab  and 
bring  you  to  the  palace,  and  I  will  be  at  the  door  to 
receive  you.  The  chances  are  that  you  will  be  at 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  137 

home  again  before  the  Baroness  comes  in,  and  she 
will  never  know  that  you  have  been  out.  Does  that 
look  very  hard  ?  " 

"No,  it  looks  easy." 

"  What  time  shall  Sassi  call  for  you  to-morrow  ? " 
asked  Malipieri,  who  wished  to  settle  the  matter  at 
once. 

"  At  five  o'clock,"  answered  Sabina,  after  a  moment's 
thought. 

"At  five  to-morrow,  then.  You  had  better  not  wear 
anything  very  new.  The  place  where  the  statue  lies 
is  not  a  drawing-room,  you  know,  and  your  frock  may 
be  spoilt." 

"  Very  well." 

She  glanced  at  the  clock,  looked  at  Malipieri  as  if 
hesitating,  and  then  rose. 

"  I  shall  go  back  to  my  room  now,"  she  said. 

"Yes.  It  is  better.  They  may  come  in  at  any 
moment."  He  had  risen  also. 

Their  eyes  met  again,  and  they  smiled  at  each  other, 
as  they  realized  what  they  were  doing,  that  they  had 
been  nearly  an  hour  together,  unknown  to  any  one,  and 
had  arranged  something  very  like  a  clandestine  meet 
ing  for  the  next  day.  Sabina  put  out  her  hand. 

"At  five  o'clock,"  she  said  again.     "  Good-night." 

He  felt  her  touch  for  the  first  time  since  they  had 
met.  It  was  light  and  elastic  as  the  pressure  of  a  very 
delicate  spring,  perfectly  balanced  and  controlled.  But 
she,  on  her  side,  looked  down  suddenly  and  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  surprise. 


138  THE    HEART    OF    ROME 

"  Oh  !     How  rough  your  hand  is  !  " 

He  laughed,  and  held  out  his  palm,  which  was  cal 
lous  as  a  day-labourer's. 

"  My  man  and  I  have  done  all  the  work  ourselves," 
he  said,  "  and  it  has  not  been  play." 

"  It  must  be  delightful !  "  answered  Sabina  with 
admiration.  "  I  wish  I  were  a  man  !  We  could  have 
done  it  together." 

She  went  to  the  door,  and  she  turned  to  smile  at  him 
again  as  she  laid  her  hand  on  the  knob.  He  remem 
bered  her  afterwards  as  she  stood  there  a  single  mo 
ment  with  the  light  on  her  misty  hair  and  white 
cheeks,  and  the  little  shadow  round  her  small  bare 
throat.  He  remembered  that  he  would  have  given 
anything  to  bring  her  back  to  the  place  where  she 
had  sat.  There  was  much  less  doubt  in  his  mind  as 
to  what  he  felt  then  than  there  had  been  a  few  minutes 
earlier. 

Half  an  hour  after  Sabina  had  disappeared  Malipieri 
and  Volterra  were  seated  in  deep  armchairs  in  the 
smoking-room,  the  Baron  having  sent  his  wife  to  bed 
a  few  minutes  after  they  had  come  in.  She  obeyed 
meekly  as  she  always  did,  for  she  had  early  discovered 
that  although  she  was  a  very  energetic  woman,  Vol 
terra  was  her  master  and  that  it  was  hopeless  to  oppose 
his  slightest  wish.  It  is  true  that  in  return  for  the 
most  absolute  obedience  the  fat  financier  gave  her  the 
strictest  fidelity  and  all  the  affection  of  which  he  was 
capable.  Like  more  than  one  of  the  great  modern 
freebooters,  the  Baron's  private  life  was  very  exem- 


THE   HEART    OF   HOME  139 

plary,  yet  his  wife  would  have  been  willing  to  forgive 
him  something  if  she  might  occasionally  have  had  her 
own  way. 

This  evening  he  was  not  in  good-humour,  as  Mali- 
pieri  found  out  as  soon  as  they  were  alone  together. 
He  chewed  the  end  of  the  enormous  Havana  he  had 
lighted,  he  stuck  his  feet  out  straight  in  front  of  him, 
resting  his  heels  on  the  floor  and  turning  his  shining 
patent  leather  toes  straight  up,  he  folded  his  hands 
upon  the  magnificent  curve  of  his  white  waistcoat, 
and  leaning  his  head  well  back  he  looked  steadily  at 
the  ceiling.  All  these  were  very  bad  signs,  as  his  wife 
could  have  told  Malipieri  if  she  had  stayed  in  the  room. 

Malipieri  smoked  in  silence  for  some  time,  entirely 
forgetting  him  and  thinking  of  Sabina. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Archaeologist,"  the  Baron  said  at  last, 
allowing  his  big  ciga*  to  settle  well  into  one  corner 
of  his  mouth,  "there  is  the  devil  to  pay." 

He  spoke  as  if  the  trouble  were  Malipieri's  fault. 
The  younger  man  eyed  him  coldly. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ? "  he  enquired,  without  the 
least  show  of  interest. 

"You  are  being  watched,"  answered  Volterra,  still 
looking  at  the  ceiling.  "  You  are  now  one  of  those 
interesting  people  whose  movements  are  recorded  like 
the  weather,  every  twelve  hours." 

"  Yes,"  said  Malipieri.  "  I  have  known  that  for 
some  time." 

"The  next  time  you  know  anything  so  interesting, 
I  wish  you  would  inform  me,"  replied  Volterra. 


140  THE   HEART   OP   ROME 

His  voice  and  his  way  of  speaking  irritated  Mali- 
pieri.  The  Baroness  had  been  better  educated  than 
her  husband  from  the  first ;  she  was  more  adaptable 
and  she  had  really  learned  the  ways  of  the  society  she 
loved,  but  the  Baron  was  never  far  from  the  verge  of 
vulgarity,  and  he  often  overstepped  it. 

"  When  you  asked  me  to  help  you,"  Malipieri  said, 
"  you  knew  perfectly  well  what  my  political  career  had 
been.  I  believe  you  voted  for  the  bill  which  drove  me 
out  of  the  .country." 

"  Did  I  ? "  The  Baron  watched  the  smoke  of  his 
cigar  curling  upwards. 

"I  think  you  did.  Not  that  I  bear  you  the  least 
malice.  I  only  mean  that  you  might  very  naturally 
expect  that  I  should  be  thought  a  suspicious  person, 
and  that  detectives  would  follow  me  about." 

"Nobody  cares  a  straw  for  y*>ur  politics,"  retorted 
Volterra  rudely. 

"  Then  I  shall  be  the  more  free  to  think  as  I  please," 
Malipieri  answered  with  calm. 

"  Perfectly  so.  In  the  meantime  it  is  not  the  Minis 
try  of  the  Interior  that  is  watching  you.  The  present 
Ministry  does  not  waste  time  and  money  on  such  non 
sense.  You  are  being  watched  because  you  are  sus 
pected  of  trying  to  get  some  statues  or  pictures  out  of 
Italy,  in  defiance  of  the  Pacca  law." 

"  Oh !  "  Malipieri  blew  a  whiff  of  smoke  out  with 
the  ejaculation,  for  he  was  surprised. 

"  I  have  it  from  one  of  the  cabinet,"  Volterra  con 
tinued.  "He  told  me  the  facts  confidentially  after 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  141 

dinner.  You  see,  as  you  are  living  in  my  house,  the 
suspicion  is  reflected  on  me." 

"In  your  house?" 

"The  Palazzo  Conti  is  my  house,"  answered  the 
Baron,  taking  his  cigar  from  his  mouth  for  the  first 
time  since  he  had  lighted  it,  and  holding  it  out  at  arm's 
length  with  a  possessive  sweep  while  he  leaned  back 
and  looked  at  the  ceiling  again.  "It  all  belongs  to 
me,"  he  said.  "  I  took  it  for  the  mortgage,  with  every 
thing  in  it." 

"  By  the  bye,"  said  Malipieri,  "  what  became  of  that 
Velasquez,  and  those  other  pictures  ?  " 

"  Was  there  a  Velasquez  ?  "  enquired  the  Baron  care 
lessly,  without  changing  his  attitude. 

"  Yes.  It  was  famous  all  over  Europe.  It  was  a 
family  portrait." 

"  I  remember  !     It  turned  out  to  be  a  copy  after  all." 

"  A  copy !  "  repeated  Malipieri  incredulously. 

"Yes,  the  original  is  in  Madrid,"  answered  the 
Baron  with  imperturbable  self-possession.  ' 

"And  all  those  other  pictures  turned  out  to  be 
copies,  too,  I  daresay,"  suggested  Malipieri. 

"  Every  one  of  them.     It  was  a  worthless  collection." 

"  In  that  case  it  was  hardly  worth  while  to  take  so 
much  trouble  in  getting  them  out  of  the  country 
secretly."  Malipieri  smiled. 

"  That  was  the  dealer's  affair,"  answered  Volterra 
without  the  least  hesitation.  "  Dealers  are  such  fools  ! 
They  always  make  a  mystery  of  everything." 

Malipieri  could  not  help  admiring   the   proportions 


142  THE  HEAET   OF   ROME 

and  qualities  of  the  Baron's  lies.  The  financier  was 
well  aware  that  Malipieri  knew  the  pictures  to  be 
genuine  beyond  all  doubt.  The  disposal  of  them  had 
been  well  managed,  for  when  Malipieri  moved  into 
the  palace  there  was  not  a  painting  of  value  left  on  the 
walls,  yet  there  had  been  no  mention  of  them  in  the 
newspapers,  nor  any  gossip  about  them,  and  the  public 
at  large  believed  them  to  be  still  in  their  places.  As 
a  matter  of  fact  most  of  them  were  already  in  France 
and  England,  and  the  Velasquez  was  in  Saint  Peters 
burg. 

"  I  understand  why  you  are  anxious  that  the  Palazzo 
Conti  should  not  be  watched  just  now,"  Malipieri  said. 
"  For  my  part,  as  I  do  not  believe  in  your  government, 
I  cannot  be  expected  to  believe  in  its  laws.  It  is  not 
my  business  whether  you  respect  them  yourselves  or 
not." 

"  Who  is  breaking  the  law  ? "  asked  the  Baron 
roughly.  "  It  is  absurd  to  talk  in  that  way.  But  as 
the  government  has  taken  it  into  its  head  to  suspect 
that  you  do,  it  is  not  advisable  for  me,  who  am  a 
staunch  supporter  of  the  government,  to  see  too  much 
of  you.  I  am  sure  you  must  understand  that  —  it  is 
so  simple." 

"  In  other  words  ?  "  Malipieri  looked  at  him  coldly, 
waiting  for  an  explanation. 

"  I  cannot  afford  to  have  it  said  that  you  are  living 
in  the  palace  for  the  purpose  of  helping  dealers  to 
smuggle  objects  of  art  out  of  the  country.  That  is 
what  I  mean." 


THE   HEAKT   OF   ROME  143 

"  I  see.  But  what  objects  of  art  do  you  mean, 
since  you  have  already  sent  away  everything  there 
was?" 

"  It  is  believed  that  you  had  something  to  do  with 
that  ridiculous  affair  of  the  copies,"  said  Volterra,  his 
voice  suddenly  becoming  oily. 

"  They  were  gone  when  I  moved  in." 

"I  daresay  they  were.  But  it  would  be  hard  to 
prove,  and  of  course  the  people  who  bought  the  pic 
tures  from  the  dealer  insist  that  they  are  genuine,  so 
that  there  may  be  trouble  some  day,  and  you  may 
be  annoyed  about  the  things  if  you  stay  here  any 
longer." 

"  You  mean  that  you  advise  me  to  leave  Rome.  Is 
that  it  ?  "  Malipieri  now  spoke  with  the  utmost  in 
difference,  and  glanced  carelessly  at  the  end  of  his 
cigar  as  he  knocked  the  ash  into  the  gold  cup  at  his 
side. 

"  You  certainly  cannot  stay  any  longer  in  the 
palace,"  Volterra  said,  in  an  advisory  and  depreca 
tory  tone. 

"  You  seem  to  be  badly  frightened,"  observed  Mali 
pieri.  "  I  really  cannot  see  why  I  should  change  my 
quarters  until  we  have  finished  what  we  are  doing." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  will  have  to  go.  You  are  looked 
upon  as  very  'suspicious.'  It  would  not  be  so  bad, 
if  your  servant  had  not  been  a  convict." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ?  "  Malipieri  asked  with 
sudden  sternness. 

"  Everything  of  that  sort  is  known  to  the  police," 


144  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

answered  Volterra,  whose  manner  had  become  very 
mild.  "  Of  course  you  have  your  own  reasons  for 
employing  such  a  person." 

"  He  is  an  innocent  man,  who  was  unjustly  convicted." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  Poor  fellow  !  Those  things  happen 
sometimes,  I  know.  It  is  more  than  kind  of  you  to 
employ  him.  Nevertheless,  you  cannot  help  seeing 
that  the  association  of  ideas  is  unfortunate  and  gives 
a  bad  impression.  The  man  was  never  proved  to  be 
innocent,  and  when  he  had  served  his  term,  he  was 
involved  as  your  servant  in  your  political  escapade. 
You  do  not  mind  my  speaking  of  that  matter  lightly  ? 
It  is  the  safest  way  to  look  at  it,  is  it  not?  Yes. 
The  trouble  is  that  you  and  your  man  are  both  on 
the  black  book,  and  since  the  affair  has  come  to  the 
notice  of  the  government  my  colleagues  are  naturally 
surprised  that  you  should  both  be  living  in  a  house 
that  belongs  to  me." 

"  You  can  explain  to  your  colleagues  that  you  have 
let  the  apartment  in  the  palace  to  me,  and  that  as  I 
pay  my  rent  regularly  you  cannot  turn  me  out  with 
out  notice."  Malipieri  smiled  indifferently. 

"  Surely,"  said  the  Baron,  affecting  some  surprise, 
"if  I  ask  you,  as  a  favour,  to  move  somewhere  else, 
you  will  do  so !  " 

To  tell  the  truth,  he  was  not  prepared  for  Mali- 
pieri's  extreme  forbearance,  for  he  had  expected  an 
outbreak  of  temper,  at  the  least,  and  he  still  feared 
a  positive  refusal.  Instead,  the  young  man  did  not 
seem  to  care  a  straw. 


THE  HEART   OF   ROME  145 

"  Of  course,"  he  said,  "  if  you  ask  it  as  a  favour, 
I  cannot  refuse.  When  should  you  like  me  to 
go?" 

"  You  are  really  too  kind !  "  The  Baron  was  genu 
inely  delighted  and  almost  grateful  —  as  near  to  feel 
ing  gratitude,  perhaps,  as  he  had  ever  been  in  his  life. 
i'l  should  hate  to  hurry  you,"  he  continued.  "But 
really,  since  you  are  so  very  good,  I  think  the  sooner 
you  can  make  it  convenient  to  move,  the  better  it 
will  be  for  every  one." 

"  I  could  not  manage  to  pack  my  books  and  draw 
ings  so  soon  as  to-morrow,"  said  Malipieri. 

"  Oh,  no !  certainly  not !  By  all  means  take  a 
couple  of  days  about  it.  I  could  not  think  of 
putting  you  to  any  inconvenience." 

"Thanks."  Malipieri  smiled  pleasantly.  "If  I 
cannot  get  off  by  the  day  after  to-morrow,  I  shall 
certainly  move  the  day  after  that." 

"I  am  infinitely  obliged.  And  now  that  this  un 
pleasant  matter  is  settled,  owing  to  your  wonderful 
amiability,  do  tell  me  how  the  work  is  proceeding." 

"  Fairly  well,"  Malipieri  answered.  "  You  had 
better  come  and  see  for  yourself  before  I  go.  Let 
me  see.  To-morrow  I  shall  have  to  look  about  for  a 
lodging.  Could  you  come  the  day  after  to-morrow? 
Then  we  can  go  down  together." 

"  How  far  have  you  got  ? "  asked  Volterra,  with  a 
little  less  interest  than  might  have  been  expected. 

"  I  am  positively  sure  that  there  is  an  inner 
chamber,  where  I  expected  to  find  it,"  Malipieri  an- 


146  THE   HEART   OF   KOME 

swered,  with  perfect  truth.  "Perhaps  we  can  get 
into  it  when  you  come." 

"I  hope  so,"  said  the  Baron,  watching  the  other's 
face  from  the  corner  of  his  eye. 

"  I  have  made  a  curious  discovery  in  the  course  of 
the  excavation,"  Malipieri  continued.  "  The  pillar  of 
masonry  which  you  showed  me  is  hollow  after  all. 
It  was  the  shaft  of  an  oubliette  which  must  have 
opened  somewhere  in  the  upper  part  of  the  house. 
There  is  a  well  under  it." 

"  Full  of  water  ?  " 

"  No.  It  is  dry.  We  shall  have  to  pass  through 
it  to  get  to  the  inner  chamber.  You  shall  see  for 
yourself  —  a  very  singular  construction."  • 

44  Was  there  nothing  In  it  ?  " 

"  Several  skeletons,"  answered  Malipieri  indiffer 
ently.  "  One  of  the  skulls  has  a  rusty  knife  driven 
through  it." 

44  Dear  me !  "  exclaimed  the  Baron,  shaking  his  fat 
head.  44  Those  Conti  were  terrible  people  !  We 
must  not  tell  the  Baroness  these  dreadful  stories. 
They  would  upset  her  nerves." 

Malipieri  had  not  supposed  Volterra's  wife  to  be 
intensely  sensitive.  He  moved,  as  if  he  meant  to 
take  his  leave  presently. 

44  By  the  bye,"  he  said,  44  whereabouts  should  you 
recommend  me  to  look  for  a  lodging  ?  " 

The  Baron  reflected  a  moment. 

44  If  I  were  you,"  he  said,  44 1  would  go  to  a  hotel. 
In  fact,  I  think  you  would  be  wiser  to  leave  Rome  for 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  147 

a  time,  until  all  these  absurd  stories  are  forgotten. 
The  least  I  can  do  is  to  warn  you  that  you  may  be  ex 
posed  to  a  good  deal  of  annoyance  if  you  stay  here. 
The  minister  with  whom  I  was  talking  this  evening 
told  me  as  much  in  a  friendly  way." 

"Really?  That  was  very  kind  of  him.  But  what 
do  you  mean  by  the  word  '  annoyance '  ?  It  is  rather 
vague.  It  is  one  thing  to  suspect  a  man  of  trying  to 
evade  the  Pacca  law ;  it  is  quite  another  matter  to  issue 
a  warrant  of  arrest  against  him." 

"  Oh,  quite,"  answered  Volterra  readily.  "  I  did 
not  mean  that,  of  course,  though  when  one  has  once 
been  arrested  for  anything,  innocent  or  not,  our  police 
always  like  to  repeat  the  operation  as  soon  as  possible, 
just  as  a  matter  of  principle." 

"  In  other  words,  if  a  man  has  once  been  suspected, 
even  unjustly,  he  had  better  leave  his  country  for  ever." 

The  Baron  shrugged  his  big  round  shoulders,  and 
drew  a  final  puff  from  his  cigar  before  throwing  the 
end  away. 

"Injustice  is  only  what  the  majority  thinks  of  the 
minority,"  he  observed.  "If  you  do  not  happen  to  be 
a  man  of  genius,  the  first  step  towards  success  in  life  is 
to  join  the  majority." 

Malipieri  laughed  as  he  rose  to  his  feet,  reflecting 
that  in  delivering  himself  of  this  piece  of  wrorldly  wis 
dom  the  Baron  had  probably  spoken  the  truth  for  the 
first  time  since  they  had  been  talking. 

"Shall  we  say  day  after  to-morrow,  about  five 
o'clock  ?  "  asked  Malipieri  before  going. 


148  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"  By  all  means.  And  let  me  thank  you  again  for 
meeting  my  views  so  very  obligingly." 

"Not  at  all." 

So  Malipieri  went  home  to  think  matters  over,  and 
the  Baron  sat  a  long  time  in  his  chair,  looking  much 
pleased  with  himself  and  apparently  admiring  a  mag 
nificent  diamond  which  he  wore  on  one  of  his  thick 
fingers. 


CHAPTER  X 

MALIPIERI  was  convinced  that  Volterra  not  only 
knew  exactly  how  far  the  work  under  the  palace  had 
proceeded,  but  was  also  acquainted  with  the  general 
nature  of  the  objects  found  in  the  inner  chamber,  be 
yond  the  well  shaft.  'The  apparent  impossibility  of 
such  a  thing  was  of  no  importance.  The  Baron  would 
never  have  been  so  anxious  to  get  rid  of  Malipieri  un 
less  he  had  been  sure  that  the  difficult  part  of  the  work 
was  finished  and  that  the  things  discovered  were  of 
such  dimensions  as  to  make  it  impossible  to  remove 
them  secretly.  Malipieri  knew  the  man  and  guessed 
that  if  he  could  not  pocket  the  value  of  everything 
found  in  the  excavations  by  disposing  of  the  discover 
ies  secretly,  he  would  take  the  government  into  his 
confidence  at  once,  as  the  surest  means  of  preventing 
any  one  else  from  getting  a  share. 

What  was  hard  to  understand  was  that  Volterra 
should  know  how  far  the  work  had  gone  before 
Malipieri  had  told  him  anything  about  it.  That  he 
did  know,  could  hardly  be  doubted.  He  had  practi 
cally  betrayed  the  fact  by  the  mistake  he  had  made  in 
assuring  himself  that  Malipieri  was  willing  to  leave  the 
house,  before  even  questioning  him  as  to  the  progress 
made  since  they  had  last  met.  He  had  been  a  little 
too  eager  to  get  rid  of  the  helper  he  no  longer  needed. 

149 


150  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

It  did  not  even  occur  to  Malipieri  that  Masin  could 
have  betrayed  him,  yet  so  far  as  it  was  possible  to 
judge,  Masin  was  the  only  living  man  who  had  looked 
into  the  underground  chamber.  As  he  walked  home, 
he  recalled  the  conversation  from  beginning  to  end, 
and  his  conviction  was  confirmed.  Volterra  had  been 
in  a  bad  temper,  nervous,  a  little  afraid  of  the  result 
and  therefore  inclined  to  talk  in  a  rough  and  bullying 
tone.  As  soon  as  he  had  ascertained  that  Malipieri 
was  not  going  to  oppose  him,  he  had  become  oily  to 
obsequiousness. 

On  his  part  Malipieri  had  accepted  everything 
Volterra  proposed,  for  two  reasons.  In  the  first  place 
he  would  not  for  the  world  have  had  the  financier  think 
that  he  wanted  a  share  of  the  treasure,  or  any  remunera 
tion  for  what  he  had  done.  Secondly,  he  knew  that 
possession  is  nine  points  of  the  law,  and  that  if  any 
thing  could  ever  be  obtained  for  Sabina  it  would  not 
be  got  by  making  a  show  of  violent  opposition  to  the 
Baron's  wishes.  If  Malipieri  had  refused  to  leave  his 
lodging  in  the  palace,  Volterra  could  have  answered 
by  filling  the  house  with  people  in  his  own  employ,  or 
by  calling  in  government  architects,  archaeologists  and 
engineers,  and  taking  the  whole  matter  out  of 
Malipieri's  hands. 

The  first  thing  to  be  ascertained  was,  who  had  en 
tered  the  vaults  and  reported  the  state  of  the  work  to 
Volterra.  Malipieri  might  have  suspected  the  porter 
himself,  for  it  was  possible  that  there  might  be  another 
key  to  the  outer  entrance  of  the  cellar;  but  there  was 


THE   HEART   OF   EOME  151 

a  second  door  further  in,  to  which  Masin  had  put  a 
patent  padlock,  and  even  Masin  had  not  the  key  to 
that.  The  little  flat  bit  of  steel,  with  its  irregular 
indentations,  was  always  in  Malipieri's  pocket.  As  he 
walked,  he  felt  for  it,  and  it  was  in  its  place,  with  his 
silver  pencil-case  and  the  small  penknife  he  always 
carried  for  sharpening  pencils. 

The  porter  could  not  possibly  have  picked  that  lock ; 
indeed,  scarcely  any  one  could  have  done  so  without 
injuring  it,  and  Malipieri  had  locked  it  himself  at  about 
seven  o'clock  that  evening.  Even  if  the  porter  could 
have  got  in  by  any  means,  Malipieri  doubted  whether 
he  could  have  reached  the  inner  chamber  of  the  vaults. 
There  was  some  climbing  to  be  done,  and  the  man  was 
old  and  stiff  in  the  joints.  The  place  was  not  so  easy 
to  find  as  might  have  been  supposed,  either,  after  the 
first  breach  in  the  Roman  wall  was  past.  Malipieri 
intended  to  improve  the  passage  the  next  morning,  in 
order  to  make  it  more  practicable  for  Sabina. 

He  racked  his  brains  for  an  explanation  of  the  mys- 
ter}^,  and  when  he  reached  the  door  of  the  palace,  after 
eleven  o'clock,  he  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  in 
spite  of  appearances  there  must  be  some  entrance  to  the 
vaults  of  which  he  knew  nothing,  and  it  was  all-impor 
tant  to  find  it.  He  regretted  the  quixotic  impulse 
which  had  restrained  him  from  exploring  everything  at 
once.  It  would  have  been  far  better  to  go  to  the  end 
of  his  discovery,  and  he  wondered  why  he  had  not  done 
so.  He  would  not  have  insulted  himself  by  supposing 
that  Sabina  could  believe  him  capable  of  taking  the 


152  THE    HEART    OF   ROME 

gem  from  the  ring  of  the  statue,  in  other  words,  of 
stealing,  since  whoever  the  rightful  owner  might  be, 
nothing  in  the  vault  could  possibly  belong  to  him,  and 
he  regarded  it  all  as  her  property,  though  he  doubted 
whether  he  could  ever  obtain  for  her  a  tenth  part  of 
the  value  it  represented.  He  had  acted  on  an  impulse, 
which  was  strengthened  until  it  looked  plausible  by  the 
thought  of  the  intense  pleasure  he  would  take  in  show 
ing  her  the  wonderful  discovery,  and  in  leading  her 
safely  through  the  mysterious  intricacies  of  the  strange 
place.  It  had  been  a  very  selfish  impulse  after  all,  and 
if  he  really  let  her  come  the  next  day,  there  might  even 
be  a  little  danger  to  her. 

He  let  himself  in  and  locked  the  postern  door  behind 
him.  The  porter  and  his  wife  were  asleep  and  the  glass 
window  of  the  lodge  door  was  quite  dark.  Malipieri 
lighted  a  wax  taper  and  went  upstairs. 

Masin  was  waiting,  and  opened  when  he  heard  his 
master's  footsteps  on  the  landing.  As  a  rule,  he  went 
to  bed,  if  Malipieri  went  out  in  the  evening ;  both  men 
were  usually  tired  out  by  their  day's  work. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  Malipieri  asked. 

"  There  is  somebody  in  the  vaults,"  Masin  answered. 
"  I  had  left  my  pipe  on  a  stone  close  to  the  padlocked 
door  and  when  you  were  gone  I  took  a  lantern  and 
went  down  to  get  it.  When  I  came  near  the  door  I 
was  sure  I  heard  some  one  trying  it  gently  from  the 
other  side.  I  stopped  to  listen  and  I  distinctly  heard 
footsteps  going  away.  I  ran  forward  and  tried  to  find 
a  crack,  to  see  if  there  were  a  light,  but  the  door  is 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  153 

swollen  with  the  dampness  and  fits  tightly.  Besides, 
by  the  time  I  had  reached  it  the  person  inside  must 
have  got  well  away." 

"  What  time  was  it  ?  "  asked  Malipieri,  slipping  off 
his  light  overcoat. 

"  You  went  out  at  nine  o'clock,  sir.  It  could  not  have 
been  more  than  half  an  hour  later." 

"  Light  both  lanterns.  We  must  go  down  at  once. 
See  that  there  is  plenty  of  oil  in  them." 

In  five  minutes  both  men  were  ready. 

"  You  had  better  take  your  revolver,  sir,"  suggested 
Masin. 

Malipieri  laughed. 

"  I  have  had  that  revolver  since  I  was  eighteen,"  he 
said,  "  and  I  have  never  needed  it  yet.  Our  tools  are 
there,  and  they  are  better  than  firearms." 

They  went  down  the  staircase  quietly,  fearing  to 
wake  the  porter,  and  kept  close  to  the  north  wall  till 
they  reached  the  further  end  of  the  courtyard.  When 
they  had  passed  the  outer  door  at  the  head  of  the  wind 
ing  staircase,  Malipieri  told  Masin  to  lock  it  after 
them. 

"  We  cannot  padlock  the  other  door  from  the  inside," 
he  explained,  "  for  there  are  no  hasps.  If  the  man  man 
aged  to  pass  us  he  might  get  out  this  way." 

He  led  the  way  down,  making  as  little  noise  as  possi 
ble.  Masin  held  up  his  lantern,  peering  into  the  gloom 
over  Malipieri's  shoulder. 

"  No  one  could  pass  the  other  door  without  breaking 
it  down,"  Malipieri  said. 


154  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

They  reached  the  floor  of  the  cellars,  which  extended 
in  both  directions  from  the  foot  of  the  staircase,  far  to 
the  left  by  low,  dark  vaults  like  railway  tunnels,  and  a 
short  distance  to  the  right,  where  they  ended  at  the 
north-west  corner.  The  two  men  turned  that  way,  but 
after  walking  a  dozen  yards,  they  turned  to  the  left  and 
entered  a  damp  passage  barely  wide  enough  for  them 
both  abreast.  It  ended  at  the  padlocked  door,  and  be 
fore  unlocking  the  latter  Malipieri  laid  his  ear  to  the 
rough  panel  and  listened  attentively.  Not  a  sound 
broke  the  stillness.  He  turned  the  key,  and  took  off 
the  padlock  and  slipped  it  into  his  pocket  before  going 
on.  Without  it  the  door  could  not  be  fastened. 

The  passage  widened  suddenly  beyond,  in  another 
short  tunnel  ending  at  the  outer  foundation  wall  of  the 
palace.  In  this  tunnel,  on  the  right-hand  side,  was  the 
breach  the  two  men  had  first  made  in  order  to  gain 
access  to  the  unexplored  region.  Now  that  there  was 
an  aperture,  the  running  water  on  the  other  side  could 
be  heard  very  distinctly,  like  a  little  brook  in  a  rocky 
channel,  but  more  steady.  Both  men  examined  the 
damp  floor  carefully  with  their  lanterns,  in  the  hope  of 
finding  some  trace  of  footsteps;  but  the  surface  was 
hard  and  almost  black,  and  where  there  had  been  a  lit 
tle  slimq  their  own  feet  had  rubbed  it  off,  as  they  came 
and  went  during  many  days.  The  stones  and  rubbish 
they  had  taken  from  the  wall  had  been  piled  up  and 
hardened  to  form  an  inclined  causeway  by  which  to 
reach  the  irregular  hole.  This  was  now  just  big  enough 
to  allow  a  man  to  walk  through  it,  bending  almost 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  155 

double.  Masin  lighted  one  of  the  lamps,  which  they 
generally  left  at  that  place,  and  set  it  on  a  stone. 

Malipieri  began  to  go  up,  his  stick  in  his  right  hand, 
the  lantern  in  his  left. 

"  Let  me  go  first,  sir,"  said  Masin,  trying  to  pass  him. 

"  Nonsense  !  "  Malipieri  answered  sharply,  and  went 
on. 

Masin  kept  as  close  to  him  as  possible.  He  had 
picked  up  the  lightest  of  the  drilling  irons  for  a 
weapon.  It  must  have  weighed  at  least  ten  pounds 
and  it  was  a  yard  long.  In  such  a  hand  as  Masin's  a 
blow  from  it  would  have  broken  a  man's  bones  like 
pipe  stems. 

The  wall  was  about  eight  feet  thick,  and  when 
Malipieri  got  to  the  other  end  of  the  hole  he  stopped 
and  looked  down,  holding  out  his  lantern  at  arm's 
length.  He  could  see  nothing  unusual,  and  he  heard 
no  sound,  except  the  gurgle  of  the  little  black  stream 
that  ran  ten  feet  below  him.  He  began  to  descend. 
The  masonry  was  very  irregular,  and  sloped  outwards 
towards  the  ground,  so  that  some  of  the  irregularities 
made  rough  steps  here  and  there,  which  he  knew  by 
heart.  Below,  several  large  fragments  of  Roman  brick 
and  cement  lay  here  and  there,  where  they  had  fallen 
in  the  destruction  of  the  original  building.  It  was  not 
hard  to  get  down,  and  the  space  was  not  large.  It  was 
bounded  by  the  old  wall  on  one  side,  and  most  of  the 
other  was  taken  up  by  a  part  of  a  rectangular  mass  of 
masonry,  of  rough  mediaeval  construction,  which  pro 
jected  inward. 


156  THE   HEART   OP   ROME 

The  place  was  familiar,  but  Malipieri  looked  about 
him  carefully,  while  Masin  was  climbing  down.  Along 
the  base  of  the  straight  wall  there  was  a  channel  about 
two  feet  wide,  through  which  the  dark  water  flowed 
rapidly.  It  entered  from  the  right-hand  corner,  by  a 
low,  arched  aperture,  through  which  it  seemed  out  of 
the  question  that  a  man  could  crawl,  or  even  an  ordi 
nary  boy  of  twelve.  When  they  had  first  come  to  this 
place  Masin  had  succeeded  in  poking  in  a  long  stick 
with  a  bit  of  lighted  wax  taper  fastened  to  it,  and  both 
men  had  seen  that  the  channel  ran  on  as  far  as  it  could 
be  seen,  with  no  widening.  At  the  other  end  of  the 
chamber  it  ran  out  again  by  a  similar  conduit.  What 
had  at  first  surprised  Malipieri  had  been  that  the  water 
did  not  enter  from  the  side  of  the  foundations  near  the 
Vicolo  dei  Soldati,  but  ran  out  that  way.  He  had  also 
been  astonished  at  the  quantity  and  speed  of  the  cur 
rent.  A  channel  a  foot  deep  and  two  feet  wide  carries 
a  large  quantity  of  water  if  the  velocity  be  great,  and 
Malipieri  had  made  a  calculation  which  had  convinced 
him  that  if  the  outflow  were  suddenly  closed,  the  small 
space  in  which  he  now  stood  would  in  a  few  minutes 
be  fall  up  to  within  three  or  four  feet  of  the  vault. 
He  would  have  given  much  to  know  whence  the  water 
came  and  whither  it  went,  and  what  devilry  had  made 
it  rise  suddenly  and  drown  a  man  when  the  excavations 
had  been  made  under  Gregory  Sixteenth. 

From  below,  the  place  where  an  entrance  had  then 
been  opened  was  clearly  visible.  The  vault  had  been 
broken  into  and  had  afterwards  been  rebuilt  from 


THE   HEART   OF   EOME  157 

above.  The  bits  of  timber  which  had  been  used  for 
the  frame  during  the  operation  were  still  there,  a 
rotting  and  mouldy  nest  for  hideous  spiders  and 
noisome  creatures  that  haunt  the  dark. 

The  air  was  very  cold,  and  was  laden  with  the  inde 
scribable  smell  of  dried  slime  which  belongs  to  deep 
wells  which  have  long  been  almost  quite  dry.  It  was 
clearly  a  long  time  since  the  little  stream  had  over 
flowed  its  channel,  but  at  the  first  examination  he  had 
made  Malipieri  had  understood  that  in  former  times 
the  water  had  risen  to  within  three  feet  of  the  vault. 
Up  to  that  height  there  was  a  thin  coating  of  the  dry 
mud,  which  peeled  off  in  irregular  scales  if  lightly 
touched.  The  large  fragments  of  masonry  that  half 
covered  the  floor  were  all  coated  in  the  same  way  with 
what  had  once  been  a  film  of  slime. 

The  air,  though  cold,  could  be  breathed  easily,  and 
the  lights  did  not  grow  dim  in  it  as  they  do  in  sub 
terranean  places  where  the  atmosphere  is  foul.  The 
stream  of  water,  flowing  swiftly  in  its  deep  channel 
from  under  the  little  arch,  brought  plentiful  ventilation 
into  it.  Above,  there  was  no  aperture  in  the  vault 
ing,  but  there  was  one  in  the  mediaeval  masonry  that 
projected  into  the  chamber.  There,  on  the  side  towards 
the  right,  where  the  water  flowed  in,  Malipieri  had 
found  a  narrow  slit,  barely  wide  enough  to  admit  a 
man's  open  hand  and  wrist,  but  nearly  five  feet  high, 
evidently  a  passage  intended  for  letting  the  water  flow 
into  the  interior  of  the  construction  when  it  overflowed 
its  channel  and  rose  above  the  floor  of  the  chamber. 


158  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

At  first  Malipieri  had  supposed  that  this  aperture 
communicated  with  some  ancient  and  long-forgotten 
drain  by  which  the  water  could  escape  to  the  Tiber ; 
it  was  not  until  he  had  gained  an  entrance  to  the 
hollow  mass  of  masonry  that  he  understood  the  hideous 
use  to  which  it  had  been  applied. 

It  had  not  been  hard  to  enlarge  it.  Any  one  who 
has  worked  among  ruins  in  Italy  could  tell,  even  blind 
fold,  the  difference  between  the  work  done  in  ancient 
times  and  that  of  the  middle  ages.  Roman  brickwork 
is  quite  as  compact  as  solid  sandstone,  but  mediaeval 
masonry  was  almost  invariably  built  in  a  hurry  by  bad 
workmen,  of  all  sorts  of  fragments  embedded  in  poorly 
mingled  cement,  and  it  breaks  up  with  tolerable  ease 
under  a  heavy  pickaxe.  • 

In  half  a  day  Malipieri  and  Masin  had  widened  the 
slit  to  a  convenient  passage,  but  as  soon  as  it  had  been 
possible  to  squeeze  through,  the  architect  had  gone  in. 
He  never  forgot  what  he  felt  when  he  first  looked 
about  him.  Masin  could  not  follow  him  until  many 
blows  of  the  pick  had  widened  the  way  for  his  bulkier 
frame. 

Malipieri  stopped  at  the  entrance  now,  holding  his 
lantern  close  to  the  ground,  and  looking  for  traces  of 
footsteps.  He  found  none,  but  as  he  was  about  to 
move  forward  he  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise, 
and  picked  up  a  tiny  object  which  he  held  close  to  the 
light.  It  was  only  a  wax  match,  of  which  the  head 
had  been  broken  off  when  it  had  been  struck,  so  that 
it  had  not  been  lighted.  That  was  all,  but  neither  he 


THE   HEAKT   OF   BOMB  159 

nor  Masin  carried  wax  matches  in  the  vaults,  because 
the  dampness  soon  made  them  useless.  They  took 
common  sulphur  matches  in  tin  match-boxes.  Be 
sides,  this  was  an  English  wax  light,  as  any  one  could 
tell  at  a  glance,  for  it  was  thicker,  and  stiffer,  and 
longer  than  the  cheaper  Italian  ones. 

Malipieri  drew  back  and  showed  it  to  his  man,  who 
examined  it,  understood,  and  put  it  into  his  pocket 
without  a  word.  Then  they  both  went  in  through  the 
aperture  in  the  wall. 

The  masonry  outside  was  rectangular,  as  far  as  it 
could  be  seen.  Inside,  it  was  built  like  a  small  circular 
cistern,  smoothly  cemented,  and  contracting  above  in  a 
dome,  that  opened  by  a  square  hole  to  the  well-shaft 
above.  Like  the  stones  in  the  outer  chamber,  the 
cement  was  coated  with  scales  of  dried  mud.  The 
shaft  was  now  certainly  closed  at  the  top,  for  in  the 
daytime  not  a  ray  of  light  penetrated  into  its  blackness. 

The  lanterns  illuminated  the  place  completely,  and 
the  two  men  looked  about,  searching  for  some  new  trace 
of  a  living  being.  The  yellow  light  fell  only  on  the 
remains  of  men  dead  long  ago.  Some  of  the  bones  lay 
as  they  had  lain  since  then,  when  the  drowned  bodies 
had  gently  reached  the  floor  as  the  "  lost  water  "  sub 
sided.  Malipieri  had  not  touched  them,  nor  Masin 
either.  Two  skeletons  lay  at  full  length,  face  down 
wards,  as  a  drowned  body  always  sinks  at  last,  when 
decay  has  done  its  loathsome  work.  A  third  lay  on  its 
side,  in  a  frightfully  natural  attitude,  the  skull  a  little 
raised  up  and  resting  against  the  cemented  wall,  the 


160  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

arms  stretched  out  together,  the  hands  still  clutching  a 
rusty  crowbar.  This  one  was  near  the  entrance,  and  if, 
in  breaking  their  way  in,  Malipieri  and  Masin  had  not 
necessarily  destroyed  the  cement  on  each  side  of  the 
slit,  they  would  have  found  the  marks  where  the  dead 
man's  crowbar  had  worked  desperately  for  a  few  min 
utes  before  he  had  been  drowned.  Malipieri  had  im 
mediately  reflected  that  the  unfortunate  wretch,  who 
was  evidently  the  mason  of  whom  Sassi  had  told  him, 
had  certainly  not  entered  through  the  aperture  formerly 
made  from  above  in  the  outer  chamber,  since  the  narrow 
slit  afforded  no  possible  passage  to  the  well.  That 
doubtless  belonged  to  some  other  attempt  to  find  the 
treasure,  and  the  fact  that  the  mason's  skeleton  lay  in 
side  would  alone  have  shown  that  he  had  got  in  from 
above,  most  likely  through  a  low  opening  just  where 
the  dome  began  to  curve  inward.  A  further  search 
had  discovered  some  bits  of  wood,  almost  rotted  to 
powder,  which  had  apparently  once  been  a  ladder. 

A  much  less  practised  eye  than  the  architect's  would 
have  understood  at  a  glance  that  if  a  living  man  were 
let  down  through  the  shaft  in  the  centre  of  the  dome, 
and  left  on  the  floor,  he  could  not  possibly  get  up  even 
as  far  as  the  other  hole,  since  the  smooth  cement  offered 
not  the  slightest  hold;  and  that  if  the  outflow  of  the 
stream  from  the  first  chamber  were  arrested,  the  water 
would  immediately  fill  it  and  rise  simultaneously  in  the 
well,  to  drown  the  victim,  or  to  strip  his  bones  by  its 
action,  if  he  had  been  allowed  to  die  of  hunger  or  thirst. 
It  was  clear,  too,  that  if  the  latter  form  of  death  were 


THE   HEAKT   OF   BOMB  161 

chosen,  he  must  have  suffered  to  the  last  minute  of  his 
life  the  agony  of  hearing  the  stream  flowing  outside,  not 
three  paces  from  him,  beyond  the  slit.  Human  imagi 
nation  could  hardly  invent  a  more  hideously  cruel 
death-trap,  nor  one  more  ingeniously  secret  from  the 
world  without. 

The  unhappy  mason's  ladder  had  perhaps  broken 
with  his  weight,  or  his  light  had  gone  out,  and  he  had 
then  been  unable  to  find  the  horizontal  aperture,  but  he 
had  probably  entered  through  the  latter,  when  he  had 
met  his  fate.  The  fact  was,  as  Malipieri  afterwards 
guessed,  that  the  hole  through  the  vault  outside  had 
been  made  hastily  after  the  accident,  in  the  hope  of  re 
covering  the  man's  body,  but  that  it  had  been  at  once 
closed  again  because  it  appeared  to  open  over  a  deep 
pit  full  of  still  water. 

A  stout  rope  ladder  now  dangled  from  the  lateral 
aperture  in  the  dome,  which  Malipieri  had  immediately 
understood  to  have  been  made  to  allow  the  water  to 
overflow  when  the  well  was  full.  He  had  also  felt  tol 
erably  sure  that  the  well  itself  had  not  been  originally 
constructed  for  the  deadly  use  to  which  it  had  evidently 
been  put  in  later  times,  but  for  the  purpose  of  con 
fining  the  water  in  a  reservoir  that  could  be  easily 
cleaned,  since  it  could  be  easily  emptied,  and  in  which 
the  supply  could  be  kept  at  a  permanent  level,  conven 
ient  for  drawing  it  from  above.  In  the  days  when  all 
the  ancient  aqueducts  of  Rome  were  broken,  a  well  of 
the  "  lost  water  "  was  a  valuable  possession  in  houses 
that  were  turned  into  fortresses  at  a  moment's  notice 


162  THE  HEART   OF  HOME 

and  were  sometimes  exposed  to  long  and  desperate 
sieges. 

In  order  to  reach  the  horizontal  opening,  Malipieri 
had  climbed  upon  Masin's  sturdy  shoulders,  steadying' 
himself  as  well  as  he  might  till  he  had  laid  his  hands  on 
the  edge  of  the  orifice.  As  he  hung  there,  Masin  had 
held  up  the  handle  of  a  pickaxe  as  high  as  he  could 
reach  against  the  smooth  wall,  as  a  crossbar  on  which 
Malipieri  had  succeeded  in  getting  a  slight  foothold, 
enough  for  a  man  who  was  not  heavy  and  was  extraor 
dinarily  active.  A  moment  later  he  had  drawn  him 
self  up  and  inward.  At  the  imminent  risk  of  his  life, 
as  he  afterwards  found,  he  had  crawled  on  in  total  dark 
ness  till  the  way  widened  enough  for  him  to  turn  round 
and  get  back.  He  had  then  lowered  a  string  he  had 
with  him,  and  had  drawn  up  a  lantern  first,  then  the 
end  of  a  coil  of  rope,  then  the  tools  for  carrying  on  the 
exploration.  The  rest  had  been  easy.  Masin  had 
climbed  up  by  the  rope,  after  making  knots  in  it  and 
when  Malipieri  had  called  out,  from  the  inner  place  to 
which  he  had  retired  with  the  end,  that  it  was  made 
fast.  But  the  light  showed  the  architect  that  in  turn 
ing  round,  he  had  narrowly  escaped  falling  into  an  open 
shaft,  of  which  he  could  not  see  the  bottom,  but  which 
was  evidently  meant  for  the  final  escape  of  the  over 
flowing  water. 

There  was  room  to  pass  this  danger,  however,  and 
they  had  since  laid  a  couple  of  stout  boards  over  it, 
weighted  with  stones  to  keep  them  in  place.  Beyond, 
the  passage  rose  till  it  was  high  enough  for  a  man  to- 


THE   HEART   OP   ROME  163 

walk  upright.  Judging  from  the  elevation  now  reached 
this  passage  was  hollowed  in  the  thickness  of  one  of  the 
main  walls  of  the  palace,  and  it  was  clear  that  the  water 
could  not  reach  it.  A  few  yards  from  the  chasm,  it 
inclined  quickly  downwards,  and  at  the  end  there  were 
half  a  dozen  steps,  which  evidently  descended  to  a 
greater  depth  than  the  floor  of  the  first  outer  chamber. 

So  far  as  it  had  hitherto  been  possible  to  judge,  there 
was  no  way  of  getting  to  these  last  steps,  except  that 
opened  by  the  two  men,  and  leading  through  the  dry 
well.  In  former  times,  there  might  have  been  an  en 
trance  through  the  wall  at  the  highest  level,  but  if  it 
had  ever  existed  it  had  been  so  carefully  closed  that  no- 
trace  of  it  could  now  be  found. 

This  tedious  explanation  of  a  rather  complicated 
construction  has  been  necessary  to  explain  what  after 
wards  happened.  Reducing  it  to  its  simplest  terms,  it 
becomes  clear  that  if  the  water  rose,  a  person  in  the- 
passage,  or  anywhere  beyond  the  overflow  shaft,  could 
not  possibly  get  back  through  the  well,  though  he 
would  apparently  be  safe  from  drowning  if  he  stayed 
where  he  was  ;  and  to  the  best  of  Malipieri's  know 
ledge  there  was  no  other  way  out.  Any  one  caught 
there  would  have  to  wait  till  the  water  subsided,  and  if 
that  did  not  happen  he  would  starve  to  death. 

The  two  men  stood  still  and  listened.  They  could 
still  distinguish  the  faint  gurgling  of  the  water,  very 
far  off,  but  that  was  all. 

"  I  believe  you  heard  a  rat,"  said  Malipieri,  discon 
tentedly,  after  a  long  pause. 


164  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"  Rats  do  not  carry  English  wax  matches,"  observed 
Masin. 

"  They  eat  them  when  they  can  find  them,"  answered 
Malipieri.  "  They  carry  them  off,  and  hide  them,  and 
drop  them,  too.  And  a  big  rat  running  away  makes  a 
noise  very  like  a  man's  footsteps." 

"  That  is  true,"  assented  Masin.  "  There  were  many 
of  them  in  the  prison,  and  I  sometimes  thought  they 
were  the  keepers  when  I  heard  them  at  night." 

"  At  all  events,  we  will  go  to  the  end,"  said  Malipieri, 
beginning  to  walk  down  the  inclined  way,  and  carrying 
his  lantern  low,  so  as  not  to  be  dazzled  by  the  light. 

Masin  followed  closely,  grasping  his  drilling-iron, 
and  still  expecting  to  use  it.  The  end  of  the  passage 
had  once  been  walled  up,  but  they  had  found  the  frag 
ments  of  brick  and  mortar  lying  much  as  they  had 
fallen  when  knocked  away.  It  was  impossible  to  tell 
from  which  side  the  obstacle  had  been  destroyed. 

Going  further,  they  stepped  upon  the  curve  of  a 
tunnel  vault,  and  were  obliged  to  stoop  low  to  avoid 
striking  against  another  overhead.  The  two  vaults 
had  been  carefully  constructed,  one  outside  the  other, 
leaving  a  space  of  about  five  feet  between  them.  The 
one  under  their  feet  covered  the  inner  chamber  in 
which  Malipieri  had  seen  the  bronze  statue.  He  and 
Masin  had  made  a  hole  a  little  on  one  side  of  the 
middle,  in  order  not  to  disturb  the  keystones,  working 
very  carefully  lest  any  heavy  fragments  should  fall 
through  ;  for  they  had  at  once  been  sure  that  if  any 
thing  was  to  be  found,  it  must  be  concealed  in  that 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  165 

place.  Before  making  the  opening,  they  had  thoroughly 
explored  the  dark  curved  space  from  end  to  end  and 
from  side  to  side,  but  could  discover  no  aperture.  The 
inner  vault  had  never  been  opened  since  it  had  been 
built. 

Malipieri,  reconstructing  the  circumstances  of  the 
accident  in  the  last  century,  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  mason  who  had  been  drowned  had  been  already 
between  the  vaults,  when  some  of  the  men  behind  had 
discovered  that  the  water  was  rising  in  the  well,  and 
that  they  had  somehow  got  out  in  time,  but  that  their 
unfortunate  companion  had  come  back  too  late,  or  had 
perished  while  trying  to  break  his  way  out  by  the  slit, 
through  which  the  water  must  have  been  rushing  in. 
How  they  had  originally  entered  the  place  was  a 
mystery.  Possibly  they  had  been  lowered  from  above, 
down  the  well-shaft,  but  it  was  all  very  hard  to  explain. 
The  only  thing  that  seemed  certain  was  that  the  treas 
ure  had  never  been  seen  by  any  one  since  it  had  been 
closed  in  under  the  vault,  ages  ago.  Malipieri  had  not 
yet  found  time  to  make  a  careful  plan  of  all  the  places 
through  which  he  had  passed.  There  were  so  many 
turns  and  changes  of  level,  that  it  would  be  impossible 
to  get  an  accurate  drawing  without  using  a  theodolite 
or  some  similar  instrument  of  precision.  From  the 
measurements  he  had  taken,  however,  and  the  rough 
sketches  he  had  made,  he  believed  that  the  double  vault 
was  not  under  the  palace  itself,  but  under  the  open 
courtyard,  at  the  depth  of  about  forty  feet,  and  there 
fore  below  the  level  of  the  Tiber  at  average  high  water. 


166  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

Both  men  now  knelt  by  the  hole,  and  Masin  thrust 
his  lantern  down  to  the  full  length  of  his  arm.  The 
light  shone  upon  the  vast  hand  of  the  statue,  and  made 
a  deep  reflection  in  the  great  ruby  of  the  ring,  as  if  the 
gem  was  not  a  stone,  but  a  little  gold  cup  filled  with 
rich  wine.  The  hand  itself,  the  wrist  and  the  great 
muscles  of  the  chest  on  which  it  lay,  seemed  of  pure 
gold.  But  Malipieri's  eyes  fixed  themselves  on  some 
thing  else.  There  were  marks  on  the  bright  surface  of 
the  metal  which  had  not  been  there  when  he  had  looked 
at  it  in  the  afternoon  ;  there  were  patches  of  dust,  and 
there  were  several  small  scratches,  which  might  have 
been  made  by  the  nails  of  heavy  shoes. 

"You  were  right  after  all,"  said  Malipieri,  with 
drawing  the  lantern  and  setting  it  down  beside  him. 
"  The  man  is  here." 

Masin's  china-blue  eyes  brightened  at  the  thought  of  a 
possible  fight,  and  his  hold  tightened  again  on  his  drill. 

"  What  shall  we  do  with  him  ?  "  he  asked,  look  ing- 
down  into  the  hole. 

Cunning,  as  the  Italian  peasant  is  by  nature,  Masin 
made  a  sign  to  his  master  that  the  man,  if  he  were 
really  below,  could  hear  all  that  was  said. 

"  Shall  I  go  down  and  kill  him,  sir  ? "  Masin  en 
quired  with  a  quiet  grin  and  raising  his  voice  a  little. 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  Malipieri  answered,  at  once  enter 
ing  into  his  man's  scheme.  "  He  is  caught  in  his  own 
trap.  It  is  not  midnight  yet,  and  there  is  plenty  of 
time  to  consider  the  matter.  Let  us  sit  here  and  talk 
about  it." 


THE  HEART  OF   HOME  167 

He  now  turned  himself  and  sat  beside  the  hole, 
placing  his  lantern  near  the  edge.  He  took  out  a 
cigar  and  lit  it  carefully.  Masin  sat  on  the  other 
side,  his  drill  in  his  hand. 

"If  he  tries  to  get  out  while  we  are  talking,"  he 
said,  "I  can  break  his  skull  with  a  touch  of  this." 

"  Yes,"  Malipieri  answered,  puffing  at  his  cigar. 
"There  is  no  hurry.  Keep  your  iron  ready." 

"  Yes,  sir."  Masin  made  the  heavy  drill  ring  on  the 
stones  of  the  vault. 

A  pause  followed. 

"Have  you  got  your  pipe  with  you?"  asked  Mali 
pieri  presently.  "  We  must  talk  over  this  quietly." 

"Yes,  sir.  Will  you  hold  the  iron  while  I  get  a 
light  ?  He  might  try  to  jump  out,  and  he  may  have 
firearms.  Thank  you,  sir." 

Masin  produced  a  short  black  pipe,  filled  it  and 
lighted  it. 

"  I  was  thinking,  sir,"  he  said,  as  he  threw  away  the 
wooden  match,  "that  if  we  kill  him  here  we  may 
have  trouble  in  disposing  of  his  body.  Thank  you, 
sir,"  he  added  as  he  took  over  the  drill  again  and 
made  it  clang  on  the  stones. 

"  There  will  be  no  trouble  about  that,"  Malipieri 
answered,  speaking  over  the  hole.  "We  can  drop 
him  down  the  overflow  shaft  in  the  passage." 

"  Where  do  you  think  the  shaft  leads,  sir  ? "  asked 
Masin,  grinning  with  delight. 

"  To  some  old  drain  and  then  to  the  Tiber,  of  course. 
The  body  will  be  found  in  a  week  or  two,  jammed 


168  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

against  the  pier  of  some  bridge,  probably  at  the  island 
of  Saint  Bartholomew." 

"Yes,  sir.  But  the  drain  is  dry  now.  The  body 
will  lie  at  the  bottom  of  the  shaft,  where  we  drop  it, 
and  in  a  few  days  the  cellars  will  be  perfumed." 

He  laughed  roughly  at  his  horrible  joke,  which  was 
certainly  calculated  to  affect  the  nerves  of  the  intruder 
who  was  meant  to  hear  it.  Malipieri  began  to  wonder 
when  the  man  would  give  a  sign  of  life. 

"We  can  fill  the  well  by  plugging  the  arch  in  the 
outer  chamber,"  he  suggested.  "-Then  the  water  will 
pour  down  the  shaft  and  wash  the  body  away." 

"Yes,  sir,"  assented  Masin.  "That  is  a  good  idea. 
Shall  I  go  down  and  kill  him  now,  sir  ?  " 

"Not  yet,"  Malipieri  answered,  knocking  the  ash 
from  his  cigar. .  "  We  have  not  finished  smoking,  and 
there  is  no  hurry.  Besides,  it  occurs  to  me  that  if  we 
drive  anything  into  the  hole  when  the  water  runs  out, 
we  shall  not  be  able  to  get  the  plug  away  afterwards. 
Then  we  ourselves  could  never  get  here  again." 

A  long  silence  followed.  From  time  to  time  Masin 
made  a  little  noise  with  the  drill. 

"  Perhaps  the  fellow  is  asleep,"  he  observed  pleas 
antly  at  last.  "  So  much  the  better,  he  will  wake  in 
Paradise  !  " 

"  It  is  of  no  use  to  run  any  risks,"  said  Malipieri. 
"  If  we  go  down  to  kill  him  he  may  kill  one  of  us  first, 
especially  if  he  has  a  revolver.  There  is  no  hurry,  I 
tell  you.  Do  you  happen  to  know  how  long  it  takes 
to  starve  a  man  to  death  ?  " 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  169 

"Without  water,  a  man  cannot  live  a  week,  sir. 
That  is  the  best  idea  you  have  had  yet." 

"  Yes.  We  will  wall  him  up  in  the  vault.  That  is 
easy  enough.  Those  boards  that  are  over  the  shaft 
will  do  to  make  a  little  frame,  and  the  stones  are  all 
here,  just  as  we  got  them  out.  We  can  fasten  up  the 
frame  with  ends  of  rope." 

"  We  have  no  mortar,  sir." 

"  Mud  will  do  as  well  for  such  a  small  job,"  answered 
Malipieri.  "We  can  easily  make  enough.  Give  me 
your  iron,  in  case  he  tries  to  get  out,  and  go  and  get 
the  boards  and  the  rope." 

Masin  began  to  rise. 

"  In  a  week  we  can  come  and  take  him  out,"  he  re 
marked  in  a  matter-of-fact  way.  "  By  that  time  he 
will  be  dead,  and  we  can  have  his  grave  ready." 

He  laughed  again,  as  he  thought  of  the  sensations 
his  cheerful  talk  must  produce  in  the  mind  of  the  man 
below. 

"  Yes,"  said  Malipieri.  "  We  may  as  well  do  it  at 
once  and  go  to  bed.  It  is  of  no  use  to  sit  up  all  night 
talking  about  the  fellow's  body.  Go  and  get  the  rope 
and  the  boards." 

Masin  was  now  on  his  feet  and  his  heavy  shoes  made 
a  grinding  noise  on  the  stones.  At  that  moment  a 
sound  was  heard  from  below,  and  Malipieri  held  up  a 
ringer  and  listened.  Somebody  was  moving  in  the  vault. 

"  You  had  better  stay  where  you  are,"  said  Malipieri, 
speaking  down.  "  If  you  show  yourself  I  will  drop  a 
stone  on  your  head." 


170  THE   HEAKT   OF   ROME 

A  hollow  voice  answered  him  from  the  depths. 

"Are  you  Christians,"  it  asked,  "to  wall  a  man  up 
alive  ?  " 

"That  is  what  we  are  going  to  do,"  Malipieri 
answered  coolly.  "  Have  you  anything  to  say  ?  It 
will  not  take  us  long  to  do  the  job,  so  you  had  better 
speak  at  once.  How  did  you  get  in  ?  " 

"If  I  am  to  die  without  getting  out,  why  should  I 
tell  you  ?  "  enquired  the  voice. 

Malipieri  looked  at  Masin. 

"  There  is  a  certain  sense  in  what  the  man  says,  sir," 
Masin  said  thoughtfully. 

"  My  good  man,"  said  Malipieri,  speaking  down,  "  we 
do  not  want  anybody  to  know  the  way  to  this  place 
for  a  few  days,  and  as  you  evidently  know  it  better 
than  we  do,  we  intend  to  keep  you  quiet." 

"  If  you  will  let  me  out,  I  can  serve  you,"  answered 
the  man  below.  "  There  is  nobody  in  Rome  who  can 
serve  you  as  I  can." 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  asked  Malipieri. 

"Are  you  going  to  let  me  out,  Signor  Malipieri?" 
enquired  the  man.  "  If  you  are,  I  will  tell  you." 

"  Oh,  you  know  my  name,  do  you  ?  " 

"Perfectly.  You  are  the  engineer  engaged  by  the 
Senator  Volterra  to  find  the  treasure." 

"  Yes.     Quite  right.     What  of  that  ?  " 

"  You  have  found  it,"  answered  the  other.  "  Of 
what  use  will  it  be  to  kill  me  ?  I  cannot  take  that 
statue  away  in  my  waistcoat  pocket,  if  you  let  me  out, 
can  I?" 


THE  HEART   OF   HOME  171 

"  You  had  better  not  make  too  many  jokes,  my  man, 
or  we  will  put  the  boards  over  this  hole  in  five  minutes. 
If  you  can  really  be  of  use  to  me,  I  will  let  you  out. 
What  is  your  name?  " 

"  Toto,"  answered  the  voice  sullenly. 

"Yes.  That  means  Theodore,  I  suppose.  Now 
make  haste,  for  I  am  tired  of  waiting.  What  are  you, 
and  how  did  you  get  in  ?  " 

"  I  was  the  mason  of  the  palace,  until  the  devil  flew 
away  with  the  people  who  lived  in  it.  I  know  all  the 
secrets  of  the  house.  I  can  be  very  useful  to  you." 

"  That  changes  matters,  my  friend.  I  have  no 
doubt  you  can  be  useful  if  you  like,  though  we  have 
managed  to  find  one  of  the  secrets  without  you.  It 
happens  to  be  the  only  one  we  wanted  to  know." 

"  No,"  answered  Toto.  "  There  are  two  others. 
You  do  not  know  how  I  got  in,  and  you  do  not  know 
how  to  manage  the  '  lost  water.' ' 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Malipieri.  "  But  if  I  let  you  out 
you  may  do  me  harm,  by  talking  before  it  is  time.  The 
government  is  not  to  know  of  this  discovery  until  I 
am  ready." 

"  The  government !  "  exclaimed  Toto  contemptu 
ously,  from  his  hiding-place.  "  May  an  apoplexy  seize 
it !  Do  you  take  me  for  a  spy  ?  I  am  a  Christian." 

"  I  begin  to  think  he  is,  sir,"  put  in  Masin,  knock 
ing  the  ash  from  his  pipe. 

"  I  think  so,  too,"  said  Malipieri.  "  Throw  away 
that  iron,  Masin.  He  shall  show  himself,  at  all  events, 
and  if  we  like  his  face  we  can  talk  to  him  here." 


172  THE   HEART   OF   KOME 

Masin  dropped  the  drill  with  a  clang.  Toto's  hairy 
hand  appeared,  grasping  the  golden  wrist  of  the  statue, 
as  he  raised  himself  to  approach  the  hole. 

"  He  is  a  mason,  as  he  says,"  said  Masin,  catching 
sight  of  the  rough  fingers. 

"  Did  you  take  me  for  a  coachman  ?  "  enquired  Toto, 
thrusting  his  shaggy  head  forward  cautiously,  and 
looking  up  through  the  aperture. 

"Before  you  come  up  here,"  Malipieri  answered, 
"  tell  me  how  you  got  in." 

"  You  seem  to  know  so  much  about  the  overflow 
shaft  that  I  should  think  you  might  have  guessed. 
If  you  do  not  believe  that  I  came  that  way,  look  at  my 
clothes  !  " 

He  now  crawled  upon  the  body  of  the  statue,  and 
Malipieri  saw  that  he  was  covered  with  half-dried  mud 
and  ooze. 

"  You  got  through  some  old  drain,  I  suppose,  and 
found  your  way  up." 

"  It  seems  so,"  answered  Toto,  shaking  his  shoulders, 
as  if  he  were  stiff. 

"  Are  you  going  to  let  him  go  free,  sir  ? "  asked 
Masin,  standing  ready.  "  If  you  do,  he  will  be  down 
the  shaft,  before  you  can  catch  him.  These  men  know 
their  way  underground  like  moles." 

w  Moles,  yourselves  !  "  answered  Toto  in  a  growl, 
putting  his  head  up  above  the  level  of  the  vault. 

Masin  measured  him  with  his  eye,  and  saw  that  he 
was  a  strong  man,  probably  much  more  active  than  he 
looked  in  his  heavy,  mud-plastered  clothes. 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  173 

"  Get  up  here,"  said  Malipieri. 

Toto  obeyed,  and  in  a  moment  he  sat  on  the  edge  of 
the  hole,  his  legs  dangling  down  into  it. 

"  Not  so  bad,"  he  said,  settling  himself  with  a  grunt 
of  satisfaction. 

"  I  like  you,  Master  Toto,"  said  Malipieri.  "  You 
might  have  thought  that  we  really  meant  to  kill  you, 
but  you  did  not  seem  much  frightened." 

"  There  is  no  woman  in  the  affair,"  answered  Toto. 
"  Why  should  you  kill  me  ?  And  I  can  help  you." 

"  How  am  I  to  know  that  vou  will  ? "  asked  Mali- 

«> 

pieri. 

"  I  am  a  man  of  honour,"  Toto  replied,  turning  his 
stony  face  to  the  light  of  the  lanterns. 

"I  have  not  a  doubt  of  it,  my  friend,"  returned 
Malipieri,  without  conviction.  "  Just  now,  the  only 
help  I  need  of  you,  is  that  you  should  hold  your  tongue. 
How  can  I  be  sure  that  you  will  do  that  ?  Does  any 
one  else  know  the  way  in  through  the  drain  ?  " 

"  No.  I  only  found  it  to-night.  If  there  is  a  day's 
rain  in  the  mountains,  and  the  Tiber  rises  even  a  little, 
nobody  can  pass  through  it.  The  lower  part  is  barely 
above  the  level  of  the  river  now." 

"  How  did  you  guess  that  you  could  get  here  by  that 
way  ?  " 

"  We  know  many  secrets  in  our  trade,  from  father  to 
son,"  answered  Toto  gruffly. 

"  You  must  have  lifted  the  boards,  with  the  stones 
on  them,  to  get  out  of  the  shaft.  Why  did  you  put 
them  back  in  their  place  ?  " 


174  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"  You  seem  to  think  I  am  a  fool  !  I  did  not  mean 
to  let  you  know  that  I  had  been  here,  so  I  put  them 
back,  of  course.  I  supposed  that  I  could  get  out 
through  the  cellars,  but  you  have  put  a  padlock  on  the 
inner  door." 

"  Is  there  any  way  of  turning  water  into  that 
shaft?" 

"Only  by  filling  the  well,  I  think.  If  the  Tiber 
rises,  the  water  will  back  up  the  shaft  through  the 
drain.  That  is  why  the  ancients  who  built  the  well 
made  another  way  for  the  water  to  run  off.  When 
the  river  is  swollen  in  a  flood  it  must  be  much  higher 
in  the  shaft  than  the  bottom  of  the  well,  and  if  the 
4  lost  water '  were  running  in  all  the  time,  the  air  would 
probably  make  it  back,  so  that  the  shaft  would  be  use 
less  and  the  well  would  be  soiled  with  the  river  water." 

"You  evidently  know  your  trade,  Master  Toto," 
said  Masin,  with  some  admiration  for  his  fellow-crafts 
man's  clear  understanding. 

"  You  know  yours,"  retorted  Toto,  who  was  seldom  at 
a  loss,  "for  just  now  you  talked  of  killing  like  a  pro 
fessional  assassin." 

This  pleasing  banter  delighted  Masin,  who  laughed 
heartily,  and  patted  Toto  on  the  back. 

"  We  shall  be  good  friends,"  he  said. 

"  In  this  world  one  never  knows,"  Toto  answered 
philosophically.  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  You  must  come  back  with  us  to  my  apartment," 
said  Malipieri,  who  had  been  considering  the  matter. 
"  You  must  stay  there  a  couple  of  days,  without  going 


THE  HEAKT   OF   ROME  175 

out.  I  will  pay  you  for  your  time,  and  give  you  a 
handsome  present,  and  plenty  to  eat  and  drink.  After 
that  you  will  be  free  to  go  where  you  please  and  say 
what  you  like,  for  the  secret  will  be  out." 

"  Thank  you,"  answered  Toto  without  enthusiasm. 
"Are  you  going  to  tell  the  government  about  the 
treasure  ?  " 

"  The  Senator  will  certainly  inform  the  government, 
which  has  a  right  to  buy  it." 

To  this  Toto  said  nothing,  but  he  lifted  his  legs  out 
of  the  hole  and  stood  up,  ready  to  go.  Malipieri  and 
Masin  took  up  their  lanterns. 


CHAPTER  XI 

MASIN  led  the  way  back,  Toto  followed  and  Mali- 
pieri  went  last,  so  that  the  mason  was  between  his  two 
captors.  They  did  not  quite  trust  him,  and  Masin  was 
careful  not  to  walk  too  fast  where  the  way  was  so 
familiar  to  him,  while  Malipieri  was  equally  careful 
not  to  lag  behind.  In  this  order  they  reached  the 
mouth  of  the  overflow  shaft,  covered  with  the  loaded 
boards.  Masin  bent  down  and  examined  them,  for  he 
wished  to  convince  himself  that  the  stones  had  been 
moved  since  he  had  himself  placed  them  there.  A 
glance  showed  that  this  was  the  case,  and  he  was  about 
to  go  on,  when  he  bent  down  again  suddenly  and  lis 
tened,  holding  up  his  hand. 

"  There  is  water,"  he  said,  and  began  to  lift  off  the 
stones,  one  by  one. 

Toto  helped  him  quickly.  There  were  only  three 
or  four,  and  they  were  not  heavy.  When  the  mouth 
of  the  shaft  was  uncovered  all  three  knelt  down  and 
listened,  instinctively  lowering  their  lanterns  into  the 
blackness  below.  The  shaft  was  not  wider  than  a 
good-sized  old-fashioned  chimney,  like  those  in  Roman 
palaces,  up  and  down  which  sweeps  can  just  manage 
to  climb. 

The  three  men  listened,  and  distinctly  heard  the 

176 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  177 

steady  falling  of  a  small  stream  of  water  upon  the 
stones  at  the  bottom. 

"  It  is  raining,"  Toto  said  confidently,  but  he  was 
evidently  as  much  surprised  by  the  sound  as  the  others. 
"  There  must  be  some  communication  with  the  gutters 
in  the  courtyard,"  he  added. 

"  There  is  probably  a  thunderstorm,"  answered  Mali- 
pieri.  "  We  can  hear  nothing  down  here." 

"  If  I  had  gone  down  again,  I  should  have  been 
drowned,"  Toto  said,  shaking  his  head.  "  Do  you  hear  ? 
Half  the  water  from  the  courtyard  must  be  running 
down  there  !  " 

The  sound  of  the  falling  stream  increased  to  a  hol 
low  roar. 

"  Do  you  think  the  water  can  rise  in  the  shaft  ?  " 
asked  Malipieri. 

"  Not  unless  the  river  rises  and  backs  into  it,"  re 
plied  Toto.  "  The  drain  is  large  below." 

"  That  cannot  be  '  lost  water,'  can  it  ?  " 

"  No.     That  is  impossible." 

"  Put  the  boards  in  their  place  again,"  Malipieri 
said.  "  It  is  growing  late." 

It  was  done  in  a  few  moments,  but  now  the  dismal 
roar  of  the  water  came  up  very  distinctly  through  the 
covering.  Malipieri  had  been  in  many  excavations, 
and  in  mines,  too,  but  did  not  remember  that  he  had 
ever  felt  so  strongly  the  vague  sense  of  apprehension 
that  filled  him  now.  There  is  something  especially 
gloomy  and  mysterious  about  the  noise  of  unexplained 
water  heard  at  a  great  depth  under  the  earth  and  com- 


178  THE  HEART   OF  ROME 

ing  out  of  darkness.  Even  the  rough  men  with  him 
felt  that. 

"  It  is  bad  to  hear,"  observed  Masiii,  putting  one 
more  stone  upon  the  boards,  as  if  the  weight  could  keep 
the  sound  down. 

"  You  may  say  that  !  "  answered  Toto.  "  And  in  this 
tomb,  too  !  " 

They  went  on,  in  the  same  order  as  before.  The 
passage  to  the  dry  well  had  been  so  much  enlarged 
that  by  bending  down  they  could  walk  to  the  top  of 
the  rope  ladder.  Malipieri  went  down  first,  with  his  lan 
tern.  Toto  followed,  and  while  Masin  was  descending, 
stood  looking  at  the  bones  of  the  dead  mason,  and  at  the 
skull  that  grinned  horribly  in  the  uncertain  yellow  glare. 

He  took  a  half -burnt  candle  from  his  pocket,  and 
some  sulphur  matches,  and  made  a  light  for  himself, 
with  which  he  carefully  examined  the  bones.  Mali 
pieri  watched  him. 

"  The  man  who  was  drowned  over  sixty  years  ago," 
said  the  architect. 

"  This,"  answered  Toto,  with  more  feeling  than  ac 
curacy,  "  is  the  blessed  soul  of  my  grandfather." 

"  He  shall  have  Christian  burial  in  a  few  days," 
Malipieri  said  gravely. 

Toto  shrugged  his  shoulders,  not  irreverently,  but  as 
if  to  say  that  when  a  dead  man  has  been  without 
Christian  burial  sixty  years,  it  cannot  make  any  dif 
ference  whether  he  gets  it  after  all  or  not. 

"The  crowbar  is  still  good,"  Toto  said,  stooping 
down  to  disengage  it  from  the  skeleton's  grasp. 


THE  HEART   OF  ROME  179 

But  Malipieri  laid  a  hand  on  his  shoulder,  for  it 
occurred  to  him  that  the  mason,  armed  with  an  iron 
bar,  might  be  a  dangerous  adversary  if  he  tried  to 
escape. 

"•  You  do  not  need  that  just  now,"  said  the  architect. 

Toto  glanced  at  Malipieri  furtively  and  saw  that  he 
was  understood.  He  stood  upright,  affecting  indiffer 
ence.  They  went  on,  through  the  breach  to  which  the 
slit  had  been  widened.  Toto  moved  slowly,  and  held 
his  candle  down  to  the  running  water  in  the  channel. 

"There  is  plenty  of  it,"  he  observed. 

"  Where  does  it  come  from  ? "  asked  Malipieri, 
suddenly,  in  the  hope  of  an  unguarded  answer. 

"  From  heaven,"  answered  Toto  without  hesitation  ; 
"and  everything  that  falls  from  heaven  is  good,"  he 
added,  quoting  an  ancient  proverb. 

"  What  would  happen  if  we  closed  the  entrance,  so 
that  it  could  not  get  in  at  all  ?  " 

"  The  book  of  wisdom,"  Toto  replied,  "  is  buried 
under  Pasquino.  How  should  I  know  what  would 
happen  ?  " 

"You  know  a  good  many  things,  my  friend." 

Malipieri  understood  that  the  man  would  not  say 
more,  and  led  the  way  out. 

"  Good-bye,  grandpapa,"  growled  Toto,  waving  his 
hairy  hand  towards  the  well.  "  Who  knows  whether 
we  shall  meet  again  ?  " 

They  went  on,  and  in  due  time  emerged  into  the 
upper  air.  It  was  raining  heavily,  as  Toto  had  guessed, 
and  before  they  had  reached  the  other  end  of  the  court- 


180  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

yard  they  were  drenched.  But  it  was  a  relief  to  be 
out  of  doors,  and  Malipieri  breathed  the  fresh  air  with 
keen  delight,  as  a  thirsty  man  drinks.  The  rain  poured 
down  steadily  and  ran  in  rivers  along  the  paved  gutters, 
and  roared  into  the  openings  that  carried  it  off. 
Malipieri  could  not  help  thinking  how  it  must  be  roar 
ing  now,  far  down  at  the  bottom  of  the  old  shaft, 
led  thither  through  deep-buried  and  long-forgotten 
channels. 

Upstairs,  Masin  was  inclined  to  be  friendly  with  his 
fellow-craftsman,  and  gave  him  dry  clothes  to  sleep 
in,  and  bread  and  cheese  and  wine  in  his  own  room. 
In  spite  of  his  experiences,  Masin  had  never  known  how 
to  be  suspicious.  But  as  Malipieri  looked  once  more  at 
the  man's  stony  face  and  indistinguishable  eyes,  he 
thought  differently  of  his  prisoner.  He  locked  the. 
outer  door  and  took  the  key  of  the  patent  lock  with  him 
when  he  went  to  bed  at  last. 

It  does  not  often  rain  heavily  in  Rome,  late  in  the 
spring,  for  any  long  time,  but  when  Malipieri  looked 
out  the  next  morning,  it  was  still  pouring  steadily,  and 
the  sky  over  the  courtyard  was  uniformly  grey.  It  is 
apparently  a  law  of  nature  that  exceptions  should  come 
when  least  wanted. 

In  spite  of  the  weather  Malipieri  went  out,  however, 
and  did  not  even  send  for  a  cab.  The  porter  was  in  a 
particularly  bad  humour  and  eyed  him  distrustfully,  for 
he  had  been  put  to  the  trouble  of  cleaning  the  stairs 
where  the  three  men  had  left  plentiful  mud  in  their 
track  during  the  night.  Malipieri  nodded  to  the  old 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  181 

man  as  usual,  and  was  about  to  go  out,  but  turned  back 
and  gave  him  five  francs.  Thus  mollified  the  porter  at 
once  made  a  remark  about  the  atrocious  weather  and 
proceeded  to  ask  how  the  work  was  progressing. 

"  I  have  explored  a  good  deal,"  answered  Malipieri. 
"  The  Senator  is  coming  to-morrow,  and  you  had  better 
sweep  carefully.  He  looks  at  everything,  you  know." 

He  went  out  into  the  pouring  rain,  keeping  a  sharp 
lookout  from  under  the  edge  of  the  umbrella  he  held 
low  over  his  head.  He  had  grown  cautious  of  late. 
As  he  expected,  he  came  upon  one  of  the  respectable 
men  he  now  met  so  often,  before  he  had  turned  into  the 
Piazza  Agonale.  The  respectable  man  was  also  carry 
ing  his  umbrella  low,  and  looking  about  him  as  he 
walked  along  at  a  leisurely  pace.  Malipieri  hailed  a 
cab. 

Even  in  wet  weather  there  are  no  closed  cabs  in  that 
part  of  Rome.  One  is  protected  from  the  wet,  more  or 
less,  by  the  hood  and  by  a  high  leathern  apron  which  is 
hooked  to  it  inside.  The  cabman,  seated  under  a  huge 
standing  umbrella,  bends  over  and  unhooks  it  on  one 
side  for  you  to  get  in  and  out. 

Malipieri  employed  the  usual  means  of  eluding  pur 
suit.  He  gave  an  address  and  told  the  man  to  drive 
fast,  got  out  quickly  on  reaching  the  house,  enquired 
for  an  imaginary  person  with  a  foreign  name,  who,  he 
was  of  course  told,  did  not  live  there,  got  in  again  and 
had  himself  driven  to  Sassi's  door,  sure  of  losing  his 
pursuer,  if  the  detective  followed  him  in  another  cab. 
Then  he  paid  the  man  two  fares,  to  save  time,  and 


182  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

went  in.  He  had  never  taken  the  trouble  to  do  such  a 
thing  since  his  political  adventures,  but  he  was  now 
very  anxious  not  to  let  it  be  known  that  he  had  any 
dealings  with  the  former  agent  of  the  Conti  family. 

The  matter  was  settled  easily  enough  and  to  his 
satisfaction.  Old  Sassi  worshipped  Sabina,  and  was 
already  fully  persuaded  that  whatever  could  be  found 
under  the  palace  should  belong  to  her,  as  also  that  she 
had  a  right  to  see  what  was  discovered  before  Volterra 
did,  and  before  anything  was  moved.  He  was  at  least 
as  quixotic  in  his  crabbed  fashion  as  Malipieri  himself ; 
and  besides,  he  really  could  not  see  that  there  was  the 
least  harm  or  danger  in  the  scheme.  It  certainly 
would  have  been  improper  for  Malipieri  to  go  and  fetch 
the  young  lady  himself,  but  it  was  absurd  to  suppose 
that  a  man  over  sixty  could  be  blamed  for  accompany 
ing  a  girl  of  eighteen  on  a  visit  to  her  old  home,  in  her 
own  interest,  especially  when  the  man  had  been  all 
his  life  employed  by  her  family  in  a  position  of  trust 
and  confidence.  Finally,  Sassi  hated  Volterra  with  all 
his  heart,  as  the  faithful  adherents  of  ruined  gentle 
folks  often  hate  those  who  have  profited  by  their  ruin. 

Sassi,  as  an  old  Roman,  predicted  that  the  weather 
would  improve  in  the  afternoon.  Malipieri  advised 
him  nevertheless  to  keep  the  hood  of  his  cab  raised 
when  he  brought  Sabina  to  the  palace.  To  this  Sassi 
answered  that  he  should  of  course  get  a  closed  carriage 
from  a  livery  stable,  and  an  argument  followed  which 
took  some  time.  In  the  opinion  of  the  excellent  old 
agent,  it  would  be  almost  an  affront  to  fetch  the  very 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  183 

noble  Donna  Sabina  in  a  vehicle  so  plebeian  as  a  cab, 
and  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  Malipieri 
made  him  understand  that  a  cab  was  much  safer  on 
such  an  occasion. 

What  was  important  was  that  the  weather  should  be 
fine,  for  otherwise  the  Baroness  might  not  go  out,  and 
the  whole  scheme  would  fail.  In  that  case,  it  must  be 
arranged  for  the  following  day,  and  Malipieri  would 
find  an  excuse  for  putting  off  Volterra's  visit. 

He  left  the  house  on  foot.  So  far,  he  had  not 
allowed  himself  to  think  too  much  of  the  future,  and 
had  found  little  time  for  such  reflection.  He  was  a 
man  who  put  all  his  energy  into  what  he  was  doing, 
and  was  inclined  to  let  consequences  take  care  of  them 
selves  rather  than  waste  thought  in  providing  for  them. 
He  believed  he  was  doing  what  was  just  and  honour 
able,  and  if  there  was  a  spice  of  adventure  and  romance 
in  it,  that  only  made  it  the  more  easy  to  do.  The  only 
danger  he  could  think  of  was  that  Sabina  might  slip  in 
one  of  the  difficult  passages  and  hurt  her  foot  a  little, 
or  might  catch  cold  in  the  damp  vaults.  Nothing  else 
could  happen. 

He  congratulated  himself  on  having  got  Toto  in  his 
power,  since  Toto  was  the  only  man  who  understood 
the  ways  of  the  "  lost  water."  If  he  had  before  sus 
pected  that  there  was  any  one  at  large  in  Rome  who 
knew  as  much  he  would  have  hesitated.  But  he  had 
made  the  discovery  of  the  man  and  had  taken  him 
prisoner  at  the  same  moment,  and  all  danger  in  that 
quarter  seemed  to  be  removed. 


184  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

As  for  the  material  difficulty,  he  and  Masin  could 
smooth  the  way  very  much  in  two  or  three  hours,  and 
could  substitute  a  solid  wooden  ladder  for  the  one 
of  rope  in  the  well.  Sabina  was  young,  slight,  and 
probably  active,  and  with  a  little  help  she  would  have 
no  difficulty  in  reaching  the  inner  chamber.  It  might 
be  well  to  cover  the  skeletons.  Young  girls  were  sup 
posed  to  be  sensitive  about  such  things,  and  Malipieri 
had  no  experience  of  their  ways.  Nevertheless  he  had 
an  inward  conviction  that  Sabina  would  not  go  into 
hysterics  at  the  sight. 

Old  Sassi  might  not  be  able  to  get  up  the  ladder,  but 
once  beyond  the  reach  of  social  observation,  he  would 
trust  Sabina  to  Malipieri  and  "Masin  for  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  and  he  could  wait  in  the  outer  cellar.  Malipieri 
had  prepared  him  for  this,  and  he  had  made  no  ob 
jection,  only  saying  that  he  should  like  to  see  the 
treasure  himself  if  it  could  possibly  be  managed.  In 
his  heart,  Malipieri^hoped  that  it  would  prove  too  much 
for  the  old  man  and  that  he  might  have  the  pleasure  of 
showing  Sabina  what  he  had  found  without  having  the  old 
agent  at  his  elbow.  Toto  would  be  locked  in,  upstairs, 
for  the  day.  He  could  not  get  out  by  the  door,  and  he 
would  not  risk  breaking  his  legs  by  jumping  from  the 
window.  The  intermediate  story  of  the  Palazzo  Conti 
was  far  too  high  for  that. 

Malipieri  calculated  that  if  Sassi  were  punctual, 
Sabina  would  be  at  the  door  of  the  palace  at  a  quarter- 
past  five.  At  five  minutes  past,  he  came  down,  and 
sent  the  porter  on  an  errand  which  would  occupy  at 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  185 

least  half  an  hour  even  if  executed  with  despatch. 
Masin  would  keep  the  door,  he  said.  The  old  man  was 
delighted  to  have  an  excuse  for  going  out,  and  promised 
himself  to  spend  a  comfortable  hour  in  a  wine  shop  if  he 
could  find  a  friend.  His  wife,  as  there  was  so  little  to 
do,  had  found  some  employment  in  a  laundry,  to  which 
she  went  in  the  morning  and  which  kept  her  out  all 
day.  No  one  would  see  Sabina  and  Sassi  enter,  and  if 
it  seemed  advisable  they  could  be  got  out  in  the  same 
way.  No  one  but  Masin  and  Malipieri  himself  need 
ever  know  that  they  had  been  in  the  palace  that 
afternoon. 

It  was  all  very  well  prepared,  by  a  man  well  accus 
tomed  to  emergencies,  and  it  was  not  easy  to  see  how 
anything  could  go  wrong.  Even  allowing  more  time 
than  was  necessary,  Sabina's  visit  to  the  vaults  could 
not  possibly  occupy  much  more  than  an  hour. 


CHAPTER  XII 

MALIPIERI  was  beginning  to  realize  that  his  work  in 
the  vaults  had  been  watched  with  much  more  interest 
than  he  had  supposed  possible,  and  that  in  some  way  or 
other  news  of  his  progress  had  reached  various  quarters. 
In  the  first  place,  his  reputation  was  much  wider  than 
he  knew,  and  many  scholars  and  archaeologists  through 
out  Europe  had  been  profoundly  impressed  both  by 
what  he  had  discovered  and  by  the  learning  he  had 
shown  in  discussing  his  discoveries.  It  followed  that 
many  were  curious  to  see  what  he  would  do  next,  and 
there  were  paragraphs  about  him  in  grave  reviews,  and 
flattering  references  to  him  in  speeches  made  at  learned 
conventions.  He  had  friends  whose  names  he  had 
never  heard,  and  enemies,  too,  ready  to  attack  him  on 
the  one  side  and  to  defend  him  on  the  other.  Some 
praised  his  modesty,  and  others  called  it  affectation. 
His  experience  of  the  wider  world  was  short,  so  far,  and 
he  did  not  understand  that  it  had  taken  people  a  year 
to  appreciate  his  success.  He  had  hoped  for  immediate 
recognition  of  his  great  services  to  archaeology,  and  had 
been  somewhat  disappointed  because  that  recognition 
had  not  been  instantaneous.  Like  most  men  of  supe 
rior  talent,  in  the  same  situation,  when  praise  came  in 
due  time  and  abundantly,  he  did  not  care  for  it  because 

186 


THE   HEAET   OF   KOME  187 

he  was  already  interested  in  new  work.  To  the  man  of 
genius  the  past  is  always  insignificant  as  compared  with 
the  future.  When  Goethe,  dying,  asked  for  "  more 
light,"  he  may  or  may  not  have  merely  meant  that  he 
wished  the  window  opened  because  the  room  seemed 
dark  to  his  failing  eyes;  the  higher  interpretation 
which  has  been  put  upon  his  last  words  remains  the 
true  one,  in  the  spirit,  if  not  in  the  letter.  He  died,  as 
he  had  lived,  the  man  of  genius  looking  forward,  not 
backward,  to  the  last,  crying  for  light,  more  light, 
thinking  not  of  dying  and  ending,  but  of  living,  hoping, 
doing,  winning. 

Besides  the  general  body  of  students  and  archaeolo 
gists,  the  Italian  government  was  exceedingly  interested 
in  Malipieri's  explorations.  The  government  is  rightly 
jealous  in  such  matters,  and  does  its  very  best  to  keep 
all  artistic  objects  of  real  value  in  the  country.  It  is 
right  that  this  should  be  so.  The  law  relating  to  the 
matter  was  framed  by  Cardinal  Pacca,  under  the  papal 
administration  many  years  ago,  and  the  modern  rulers 
have  had  the  intelligence  to  maintain  it  and  enforce  it. 
Like  other  laws  it  is  frequently  broken.  In  this  it  re 
sembles  the  Ten  Commandments  and  most  other  rules 
framed  by  divine  or  human  intelligence  for  the  good  of 
mankind  and  the  advancement  of  civilization.  The 
most  sanguine  lovers  of  their  fellow-men  have  always 
admitted  the  existence  of  a  certain  number  of  flagitious 
persons  who  obstinately  object  to  being  good.  David, 
who  was  hasty,  included  a  large  proportion  of  humanity 
amongst  "  the  wicked "  ;  Monsieur  Drumont  limited 


188  THE  HEART   OF   HOME 

the  number  to  David's  descendants;  and  Professor 
Lombroso,  whatever  he  may  really  mean,  conveys  the 
impression  that  men  of  genius,  criminals  and  lunatics 
are  different  manifestations  of  the  same  thing ;  as  dia 
monds,  charcoal  and  ham  fat  are  all  carbon  and  noth 
ing  else.  We  should  be  thankful  for  the  small  favours 
of  providence  in  excepting  us  from  the  gifted  minority 
of  madmen,  murderers  and  poets  and  making  us  just 
plain  human  beings,  like  other  people. 

There  is  no  international  law  forbidding  a  man  from 
making  digressions  when  he  is  telling  a  story. 

Malipieri  was  watched  by  the  government,  as  Vol- 
terra  had  told  him,  because  it  was  feared  in  high  quar 
ters  that  if  he  found  anything  of  value  under  the  palace, 
he  would  try  to  get  it  out  of  the  country.  He  had 
always  hated  the  government  and  had  got  himself  into 
trouble  by  attacking  the  monarchy.  Besides,  it  was 
known  in  high  quarters  that  Senator  Baron  Volterra 
held  singular  views  about  the  authenticity  of  works  of 
art.  It  would  be  inconvenient  to  have  a  scandal  in  the 
Senate  about  the  Velasquez  and  the  other  pictures ;  on 
the  other  hand,  if  anything  more  of  the  same  sort  should 
happen,  it  would  be  very  convenient  indeed  to  catch  a 
pair  of  culprits  in  the  shape  of  Malipieri,  a  pardoned 
political  offender,  and  his  ex-convict  servant. 

Then,  too,  in  quite  another  direction,  the  Vatican  was 
very  anxious  to  buy  any  really  good  work  of  art  which 
might  be  discovered,  and  would  pay  quite  as  much  for 
it  as  the  government  itself.  Therefore  the  Vatican  was 
profoundly  interested  in  Malipieri  on  its  own  account. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  189 

As  if  this  were  not  enough,  Sabina's  brother,  the 
ruined  Prince  Conti,  had  got  wind  of  the  excavations 
and  scented  some  possible  advantage  to  himself,  with 
the  vague  chance  of  more  money  to  throw  away  on 
automobiles,  at  Monte  Carlo,  and  in  the  company  of 
a  cosmopolitan  young  person  of  semi-Oriental  extrac 
tion  whose  varied  accomplishments  had  made  her  the 
talk  of  Europe. 

Lastly,  the  Russian  embassy  was  on  the  alert,  for  the 
dowager  Princess  had  heard  from  her  maid,  who  had 
heard  it  from  her  sister  in  Rome,  who  had  learned  it 
from  the  washerwoman,  who  had  been  told  the  secret 
by  the  porter's  wife,  that  the  celebrated  Malipieri  was 
exploring  the  north-west  foundations  of  the  palace. 
The  Princess  had  repeated  the  story,  and  the  legend 
which  accounted  for  it,  to  her  brother  Prince  Rubo- 
mirsky,  who  was  a  very  great  personage  in  his  own 
country.  And  the  Prince,  though  good-natured,  fore- 

« 

saw  that  he  might  in  time  grow  tired  of  giving  his 
sister  unlimited  money ;  and  it  occurred  to  him  that 
something  might  turn  up  under  the  palace,  after  all,  to 
which  she  might  have  some  claim.  So  he  had  used  his 
influence  in  Saint  Petersburg  with  the  Minister  of 
Foreign  Affairs,  and  the  latter  had  instructed  the 
Russian  Ambassador  in  Rome  to  find  out  what  he 
could  about  the  excavations,  without  attracting  atten 
tion  ;  and  Russian  diplomatists  have  ways  of  finding 
out  things  without  attracting  attention,  which  are  ex 
tremely  great  and  wonderful.  Also,  if  Russia  puts 
her  paw  upon  anything  and  declares  that  it  is  the 


190  THE   HEABT   OF   ROME 

property  of  a  Russian  subject,  it  often  happens  that 
smaller  people  take  their  paws  away  hastily. 

It  follows  that  there  must  have  been  a  good  deal  of 
quiet  talk,  in  Rome,  not  overheard  in  society,  about 
what  Malipieri  was  doing  in  the  Palazzo  Conti,  and 
as  the  people  who  occupied  themselves  with  his  affairs 
were  particularly  anxious  that  he  should  not  know 
what  they  said,  he  was  in  ignorance  of  it.  But  Vol- 
terra  was  not.  He  had  valuable  friends,  because  his 
influence  was  of  value,  and  he  was  informed  of  much 
that  was  going  on.  If  he  was  anxious  to  get  rid  of 
the  architect,  it  was  not  so  much  because  he  wanted 
for  himself  the  whole  price  which  the  statue  or  statues 
might  bring,  as  because  he  feared  lest  the  government 
should  suddenly  descend  upon  Malipieri  and  make  an 
enquiry  which  would  involve  also  the  question  of  the 
pictures.  So  far,  Volterra  had  created  the  impression 
that  the  young  man  had  been  concerned  with  a  dealer 
in  smuggling  them  out  of  the  country ;  but  in  case  of 
an  investigation  it  could  easily  be  proved  that  they 
were  gone  before  Malipieri  had  arrived  in  Rome  in 
answer  to  Volterra's  invitation.  Besides,  the  Senator 
had  discovered  that  the  young  archaeologist  was  much 
more  celebrated  than  was  convenient.  In  private  af 
fairs  there  is  nothing  so  tiresome  and  inconvenient  as 
the  presence  of  a  celebrity.  Burglars,  when  exercis 
ing  their  professional  functions,  are  not  accompanied 
by  a  brass  band. 

Toto  was  very  docile  and  quiet  all  that  day.  Masin 
thought  him  philosophical,  and  continued  to  like  him, 


THE  HEART   OF    HOME  191 

after  his  fashion,  providing  him  with  a  plentiful  supply 
of  tobacco,  a  good  meal  at  noon,  and  a  bottle  of  wine. 
The  man's  stony  face  was  almost  placid.  At  rare  in 
tervals  he  made  a  remark.  After  eating  he  looked 
out  of  the  window  and  said  rather  regretfully  that  he 
thought  the  rain  was  over  for  the  day. 

Masin  took  this  to  mean  that  he  wished  he  might  go 
out,  and  offered  him  more  win'e  by  way  of  consolation. 
But  Toto  refused.  He  was  a  moderate  man.  Then  he 
asked  Masin  how  many  rooms  Malipieri  occupied,  and 
learned  that  the  whole  of  the  little  apartment  was 
rented  by  the  architect.  The  information  did  not 
seem  to  interest  him  much. 

In  the  morning,  when  Malipieri  had  come  back  from 
his  visit  to  Sassi,  he  had  given  Masin  the  keys  of  the 
vaults,  and  had  told  him  to  buy  a  stout  ladder  and  take 
it  into  the  dry  well.  But  Toto  said  that  this  was  a 
useless  expense. 

"There  is  a  strong  ladder  about  the  right  length, 
lying  along  the  wall  at  the  other  end  of  the  west 
cellar,"  he  said.  "You  had  better  take  that." 

Malipieri  looked  at  him  and  smiled. 

"  For  a  prisoner,  you  are  very  obliging,"  he  said,  and 
he  gave  him  a  five-franc  note,  which  Toto  took  with  a 
grunt  of  thanks. 

Masin  was  gone  an  hour,  during  which  time  Mali 
pieri  busied  himself  in  the  next  room,  leaving  the  door 
open.  He  went  out  when  Masin  came  back.  When 
the  two  men  were  together  Toto  produced  the  five 
francs. 


192  THE   HEART   OF   BOME 

"  Can  you  change  ?  "  he  enquired. 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  Masin  with  some  surprise. 

"  Half  is  two  francs  fifty,"  answered  Toto.  "  That 
is  your  share." 

Masin  laughed  and  shook  his  head. 

"  No,"  he  said.  "  What  is  given  to  you  is  not  given 
to  me.  Why  should  I  share  with  you  ?  " 

"  It  is  our  custom,"  Toto  replied.    "  Take  your  half." 

Masin  refused  stoutly,  but  Toto  insisted  and  grew 
angry  at  last.  So  Masin  changed  the  note  and  kept 
two  francs  and  fifty  centimes  for  himself,  reflecting 
that  he  could  give  the  money  back  to  Malipieri,  since 
he  had  no  sort  of  right  to  it.  Toto  was  at  once 
pacified. 

When  Malipieri  returned,  Masin  went  out  and  got 
dinner  for  all  three,  bringing  it  as  usual  in  the  three 
tin  cases  strapped  one  above  the  other. 

Toto  supposed  that  he  was  not  to  be  left  alone  in  the 
apartment  that  day;  but  at  half -past  four  Malipieri 
entered  the  room,  with  a  padlock  and  a  couple  of  screw- 
eyes  in  his  hand. 

"  You  would  not  think  it  worth  while  to  risk  jump 
ing  out,"  he  said  in  a  good-humoured  tone.  "  But  you 
might  take  it  into  your  head  to  open  the  window,  and 
the  porter  might  be  there,  and  you  might  talk  to  him. 
Masin  and  I  shall  be  out  together  for  a  little  while." 

Masin  shut  the  tall  window,  screwed  the  stout  little 
eye-bolts  into  the  frame  and  ran  the  bolt  of  the  padlock 
through  both.  He  gave  the  key  to  Malipieri.  Toto 
watched  the  operation  indifferently. 


THE  HEART   OF   ROME  193 

"  If  you  please,"  he  said,  "  I  am  accustomed  to  have 
a  little  wine  about  half-past  five  every  day.  I  will 
pay  for  it." 

He  held  out  half  a  franc  to  Masin  and  nodded. 

"  Nonsense  !  "  interposed  Malipieri,  laughing.  "  You 
are  my  guest,  Master  Toto."  Masin  brought  a  bottle 
and  a  glass,  and  a  couple  of  cigars. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Toto  politely.  "I  shall  be 
very  comfortable  till  you  come  back." 

"  You  will  find  the  time  quite  as  profitable  as  if  you 
were  working,"  said  Malipieri. 

He  nodded  and  went  out  followed  by  Masin,  and 
Toto  heard  the  key  turned  twice  in  the  solid  old  lock. 
The  door  was  strong,  and  they  would  probably  lock 
the  front  door  of  the  apartment  too.  Toto  listened 
quietly  till  he  heard  it  shut  after  them  in  the  distance. 
Then  he  rose  and  flattened  his  face  against  the  window 
pane. 

He  waited  some  time.  He  could  see  one  half  of  the 
great  arched  entrance,  but  the  projecting  stone  jamb 
of  the  window  hindered  him  from  seeing  more.  It 
was  very  quiet,  and  he  could  hear  footsteps  below,  on 
the  gravel  of  the  courtyard,  if  any  one  passed. 

At  the  end  of  ten  minutes  he  heard  a  man's  heavy 
tread,  and  knew  that  it  was  Masin's.  Masin  must 
have  come  out  of  the  great  archway  on  the  side  of  it 
which  Toto  could  not  see.  The  steps  went  on  steadily 
along  the  gravel.  Masin  was  going  to  the  vaults. 

Toto  waited  ten  minutes,  and  began  to  think  that 
no  one  else  was  coming,  and  that  Malipieri  had  left  the 


194  THE   HEART    OF   ROME 

palace,  though  he  had  been  convinced  that  the  archi 
tect  and  his  man  meant  to  go  down  to  the  vaults  to 
gether.  Just  as  he  was  beginning  to  give  up  the  idea, 
he  saw  Sassi  under  the  archway,  in  a  tall  hat,  a  black 
coat  and  gloves,  and  Malipieri  was  just  visible  for  a 
moment  as  he  came  out  too.  He  was  unmistakably 
speaking  to  some  one  on  his  right,  who  was  hidden 
from  Toto's  view  by  the  projecting  stonework.  His 
manner  was  also  distinctly  deferential.  The  third 
person  was  probably  Baron  Volterra. 

The  footsteps  took  a  longer  time  to  reach  the  other 
end  of  the  court  than  Masin  had  occupied.  After  all 
was  silent,  Toto  listened  breathlessly  for  five  minutes 
more.  There  was  not  a  sound. 

He  looked  about  him,  then  took  up  a  chair,  thrust 
one  of  the  legs  between  the  bolt  and  the  body  of  the 
padlock  and  quietly  applied  his  strength.  The  wood 
of  the  frames  was  old,  and  the  heavy  strain  drew  the 
screw-eyes  straight  out. 

Toto  opened  the  window  noiselessly  and  looked  out 
with  caution.  No  one  was  in  sight.  By  this  time  the 
three  were  in  the  vaults,  with  Masin. 

Toto  knew  every  inch  of  the  palace  by  heart,  inside 
and  out,  and  he  knew  that  one  of  the  cast-iron  leaders 
that  carried  the  rain  from  the  roof  to  the  ground  was 
within  reach  of  that  particular  window,  on  the  left 
side.  He  looked  out  once  more,  up  and  down  the 
courtyard,  and  then,  in  an  instant,  he  was  kneeling  on 
the  stone  sill,  he  had  grasped  the  iron  leader  with  one 
hand,  then  with  the  other,  swinging  himself  to  it  and 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  195 

clutching  it  below  with  his  rough  boots.  A  few 
moments  later  he  was  on  the  ground,  running  for  the 
great  entrance.  No  one  was  there,  no  one  saw  him. 

He  let  himself  out  quietly,  shut  the  postern  door 
after  him,  and  slouched  away  towards  the  Vicolo  dei 
Soldati. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

SABINA  had  the  delightful  sensation  of  doing  some 
thing  she  ought  not  to  do,  but  which  was  perfectly 
innocent ;  she  had  moreover  the  rarer  pleasure,  quite 
new  to  her,  of  committing  the  little  social  misdeed  in 
the  company  of  the  first  man  she  had  ever  liked  in 
her  life.  She  knew  very  well  that  old  Sassi  would 
not  be  able  to  reach  the  inner  chamber  of  the  excava 
tion,  and  she  inwardly  hoped  that  Malipieri's  servant 
would  discreetly  wait  outside  of  it,  so  that  she  might 
be  alone  with  Malipieri  when  she  first  set  eyes  on  the 
wonderful  statue.  It  was  amusing  to  think  how  the 
nuns  would  have  scolded  her  for  the  mere  wish,  and 
how  her  pious  sister  would  have  condemned  her  to 
eternal  flames  for  entertaining  the  temptation. 

Malipieri  had  told  her  to  put  on  an  old  frock,  as  she 
might  spoil  her  clothes  in  spite  of  the  efforts  he  had 
made  to  enlarge  and  smooth  the  way  for  her  to  pass. 
Her  mother  had  a  way  of  calling  everything  old  which 
she  had  possessed  three  months,  and  for  once  Sabina 
was  of  her  mother's  opinion.  She  had  a  very  smart 
cloth  costume,  with  a  rather  short  skirt,  which  had 
come  home  in  February,  and  which  she  had  worn 
only  four  times  because  the  spring  had  been  warm. 
It  was  undoubtedly  "  old "  for  she  could  not  wear  it 

196 


THE   HEART   OF   KOME  197 

in  summer,  and  next  winter  the  fashion  would  change  ; 
and  it  had  rained  all  the  morning,  so  that  the  air  was 
damp  and  cold.  Besides,  the  costume  fitted  her 
slender  figure  to  perfection  —  it  was  such  a  pity  that 
it  was  old  already,  for  she  might  never  have  another 
as  smart.  The  least  she  could  do  was  to  try  and  wear 
it  out  when  she  had  the  chance.  It  was  of  a  delicate 
fawn  colour  ;  it  had  no  pocket  and  it  was  fastened  in 
a  mysterious  way.  The  skirt  was  particularly  suc 
cessful,  and,  as  has  been  said,  it  was  short,  which  was 
a  great  advantage  in  scrambling  about  a  damp  cellar. 
In  order  to  show  that  she  was  in  earnest,  she  put  on 
russet  leather  shoes.  Her  hat  was  large,  because  that 
was  the  fashion,  but  nothing  could  have  been  simpler  ; 
it  matched  the  frock  in  colour,  and  no  colour  was  so 
becoming  to  her  clear  girlish  pallor  and  misty  hair  as 
light  fawn. 

Malipieri  had  carried  out  his  intention  of  getting  rid 
of  the  porter,  and  was  waiting  inside  the  open  postern 
when  the  cab  drove  up.  Hitherto  he  had  only  seen 
Sabina  indoors,  at  luncheon  and  in  the  evening,  and 
when  he  saw  her  now  he  received  an  altogether  new 
impression.  Somehow,  in  her  walking  dress,  she 
seemed  more  womanly,  more  "  grown  up  "  as  she  her 
self  would  have  called  it.  As  she  got  out  of  the 
wretched  little  cab,  and  came  forward  to  greet  him,  her 
grace  stirred  his  blood.  It  was  final ;  he  was  in  love. 

Her  intuition  told  her  the  truth,  of  course.  There 
was  something  in  his  look  and  voice  which  had  not 
quite  been  in  either  on  the  previous  evening.  He  had 


198  THE  HEART   OF   ROME 

been  glad,  last  night,  because  she  had  come  to  the 
drawing-room,  as  he  had  hoped  that  she  would;  but 
to-day  he  was  more  than  glad,  he  was  happy,  merely 
because  he  saw  her.  There  never  was  a  woman  yet 
that  could  not  tell  that  difference  at  a  glance. 

She  was  proud  of  being  loved  by  him,  and  as  he 
walked  by  her  side,  she  looked  up  at  the  blue  sky  above 
the  courtyard,  and  was  glad  that  the  clouds  had 
passed  away,  for  it  must  be  sweeter  to  be  loved  when 
there  was  sunshine  overhead  than  when  it  rained  ;  but 
all  the  time,  she  saw  his  face,  without  looking  at  it, 
and  it  was  after  her  own  heart,  and  much  to  her  liking. 
Besides,  he  was  not  only  a  manly  man,  and  strong,  and, 
of  course,  brave ;  he  was  already  famous,  and  might  be 
great  some  day ;  and  she  knew  that  he  loved  her, 
which  was  much  to  his  advantage.  As  for  being 
madly,  wildly,  desperately  in  love  with  him  herself, 
she  was  not  that  yet ;  it  was  simply  a  very  delicious 
sensation  of  being  adored  by  somebody  very  sympa 
thetic.  Some  women  never  get  nearer  to  love  than 
that,  in  all  their  lives,  and  are  quite  satisfied,  and  as 
they  grow  older  they  realize  how  much  more  conven 
ient  it  is  to  be  adored  than  to  adore,  and  are  careful  to 
keep  their  likings  within  very  manageable  limits,  while 
encouraging  the  men  who  love  them  to  behave  like 
lunatics. 

Sabina  was  not  of  that  kind  ;  she  was  only  very 
young,  which,  as  Pitt  pointed  out,  is  a  disadvantage 
but  not  a  real  crime. 

They  walked  side  by  side,  almost  touching  as  they 


THE   HEAKT   OF   KOME  199 

moved ;  they  were  drawn  one  to  another,  as  all  nature 
draws  together  those  pairs  of  helpless  atoms  that  are 
destined  to  one  end. 

Old  Sassi  went  gravely  with  them.  To  him,  it  was 
a  sad  thing  to  see  Sabina  come  to  the  palace  in  a  way 
almost  clandestine,  as  if  she  had  no  right  there,  and  he 
shook  his  head  again  and  again,  silently  grieving  over 
the  departed  glory  of  the  Conti,  and  wishing  that  he 
could  express  his  sympathy  to  the  young  girl  in  digni 
fied  yet  tender  language.  But  Sabina  was  not  in  need 
of  sympathy  just  then.  Life  in  the  Volterra  establish 
ment  had  been  distinctly  more  bearable  since  Malipieri's 
appearance  on  the  scene,  and  her  old  existence  in  the 
palace  had  been  almost  as  really  gloomy  as  it  now 
seemed  to  her  to  have  been.  Moreover,  she  was  in 
tensely  interested  in  what  Malipieri  was  going  to  shew 
her. 

Masin  was  waiting  at  the  head  of  the  winding  stair 
with  lanterns  already  lighted.  When  they  had  all 
entered,  he  turned  the  key.  Sassi  asked  why  he  did 
this,  and  as  they  began  to  go  down  Malipieri  explained 
that  it  was  a  measure  of  safety  against  the  old  porter's 
curiosity. 

Sabina  stepped  carefully  on  the  damp  steps,  while 
Malipieri  held  his  lantern  very  low  so  that  she  could 
see  them. 

"  I  am  sure-footed,"  she  said,  with  a  little  laugh. 

"  This  is  the  easiest  part,"  he  answered.  "  There  are 
places  where  you  will  have  to  be  careful." 

"  Then  you  will  help  me." 


200  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

She  thought  it  would  be  pleasant  to  rest  her  hand  on 
his  arm,  where  the  way  was  not  easy,  and  she  knew 
instinctively  that  he  hoped  she  would  do  so.  They 
reached  the  floor  of  the  cellar,  and  Masin  walked  in 
front,  lighting  the  way.  Sassi  looked  about  him  ;  he 
had  been  in  the  cellars  two  or  three  times  before. 

"They  did  not  get  in  by  this  way  when  the  first 
attempt  was  made,"  he  said. 

"  No,"  answered  Malipieri.  "  I  cannot  find  out  how 
they  made  an  entrance." 

u  There  used  to  be  a  story  of  an  oubliette  that  was 
supposed  to  be  somewhere  in  the  house,"  said  Sabina. 

"  I  have  found  it.  You  will  see  it  in  a  moment,  for 
we  have  to  pass  through  the  bottom  of  it." 

"  How  amusing  !     I  never  saw  one." 

They  came  to  the  first  breach  in  the  cellar  wall.  A 
small  lamp  had  been  placed  on  a  stone  in  a  position  to 
illuminate  the  entrance,  and  was  burning  brightly. 
Masin  had  lighted  two  others,  further  on,  and  had  cov 
ered  the  bones  in  the  dry  well  with  pieces  of  sacking. 
Malipieri  went  up  the  causeway  first.  At  first  he  held 
out  his  hand  to  Sabina,  but  she  shook  her  head  and 
smiled.  There  would  be  no  satisfaction  in  being 
helped  over  an  easy  place ;  she  should  like  him  to  help 
her  where  it  would  need  some  strength  and  skill  to  do 
so.  She  drew  her  skirt  round  her  and  walked  up  un 
aided,  and  followed  by  Sassi,  leaning  on  his  stick  with 
one  hand  and  on  Masin  with  the  other. 

The  descent  into  the  first  chamber  was  less  easy. 
Standing  at  the  top,  Sabina  looked  down  at  Malipieri, 


THE  HEART  OF   EOME  201 

who  held  his  lantern  to  her  feet.  She  felt  a  delicious 
little  uneasiness  now,  and  listened  to  the  ghostly  gurgle 
from  the  channel  in  the  dark. 

"What  is  that?"  she  asked,  and  her  voice  was  a 
little  awed  by  the  darkness  and  strangeness  of  the 
place. 

"The  'lost  water.'     It  runs  through  here." 

She  listened  a  moment  longer,  and  began  to  descend, 
placing  her  feet  on  the  stones  upon  which  Malipieri 
laid  his  hand,  one  after  another,  to  show  her  the  way. 

44  Perhaps  you  might  help  me  a  little  here,"  she  said. 

"  If  you  will  let  me  put  your  feet  on  the  right  step, 
it  will  be  easier,"  he  answered. 

44  Yes.     Do  that,  please.     Show  me  the  place  first." 

44  There.     Do  you  see  ?     Now  !  " 

He  laid  his  hand  firmly  upon  her  small  russet  shoe, 
guided  the  little  foot  to  a  safe  position  and  steadied  it 
there  a  moment. 

44  So,"  he  said.  44  Now  the  next.  There  are  only 
four  or  five  more." 

She  was  rather  sorry  that  there  were  so  few,  for  they 
seemed  delightfully  safe,  or  just  dangerous  enough  to 
be  amusing  ;  she  was  not  quite  sure  which.  Women 
never  analyze  the  present,  unless  it  is  utterly  dull. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  descent,  both  looked  up,  and 
saw  at  a  glance  that  poor  old  Sassi  could  never  get 
down,  even  with  assistance.  He  seemed  unable  to  put 
his  foot  down  without  slipping,  in  spite  of  Masin's 
help. 

44 1  think  you  had  better  not  try  it,"  said  Malipieri 


202  THE  HEART   OF   KOME 

quietly.  "  In  a  few  days  I  am  sure  that  the  Senator 
will  have  a  way  broken  through  from  above,  and  then 
it  will  be  easy  enough." 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  old  man  regretfully.  "  I  will 
go  back  again  to  the  other  side  and  wait  for  you." 

"  I  am  so  sorry,"  said  Sabina  untruthfully,  but  look 
ing  up  with  sympathy. 

"Take  Signor  Sassi  back  to  the  cellar,"  said  Mali- 
pieri  to  Masin.  "  Then  you  can  follow  us." 

Sassi  and  Masin  disappeared  through  the  breach. 
Malipieri  led  the  way  into  the  dry  well,  where  there 
was  another  light.  In  her  haste  to  reach  the  end,  Sa 
bina  did  not  even  glance  at  the  sacking  that  covered 
the  skeletons. 

"  Can  you  climb  a  ladder  ?  "  asked  Malipieri. 

"  Of  course  1  "     Such  a  question  was  almost  a  slight. 

Malipieri  went  up  nimbly  with  his  lantern,  and  knelt 
on  the  masonry  to  hold  the  top  of  the  ladder.  Sabina 
mounted  almost  as  quickly  as  he  had  done,  till  she 
reached  the  last  few  steps  and  could  no  longer  hold 
by  the  uprights.  Then  she  put  out  her  hands  ;  he 
grasped  them  both  and  slid  backwards  on  his  knees  as 
she  landed  safely  on  the  edge.  She  had  not  felt  that 
she  could  possibly  fall,  even  if  her  feet  slipped,  and  she 
now  knew  that  he  was  strong,  and  that  it  was  good  to 
lean  on  him. 

"  You  will  have  to  stoop  very  low  for  a  few  steps," 
he  said,  taking  up  his  lantern,  and  he  kept  his  hold  on 
one  of  her  hands  as  he  led  her  on.  "It  is  not  far, 
now,"  he  added  encouragingly,  "  and  the  rest  is  easy." 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  203 

He  guided  her  past  the  boards  and  stones  that  cov 
ered  the  overflow  shaft,  and  down  the  inclined  passage 
and  the  steps  to  the  space  between  the  vaults.  A  third 
lamp  was  burning  here,  close  to  the  hole  beneath  which 
the  statue  lay.  .Malipieri  lowered  his  lantern  for  her 
to  see  it. 

She  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise  and  delight. 
The  pure  gold  that  covered  the  bronze  was  as  bright 
as  if  it  had  not  lain  in  the  vault  for  many  centuries, 
twelve,  fourteen,  fifteen,  no  one  could  tell  yet.  The 
light  fell  into  the  huge  ruby  as  into  a  tiny  cup  of 
wine. 

"  Can  one  get  down  ? "  asked  Sabina  breathlessly, 
after  a  moment's  silence. 

"  Certainly.  I  have  not  gone  down  myself  yet,  but 
it  is  easy.  I  wanted  you  to  be  the  first  to  see  it  all. 
You  will  have  to  sit  on  the  edge  and  step  upon  the 
wrist  of  the  statue." 

Sabina  gathered  her  skirt  neatly  round  her,  and  with 
a  little  help  she  seated  herself  as  he  directed. 

"  Are  you  sure  it  will  not  hurt  it,  to  step  on  it  ?  " 
she  asked,  looking  up. 

"Quite  sure."  Malipieri  smiled,  as  he  thought  of 
Toto's  hobnailed  shoes.  "  When  you  are  standing 
firmly,  I  will  get  down  too,  if  there  is  room." 

"  It  is  not  a  very  big  hole,"  observed  Sabina,  letting 
herself  down  till  her  feet  rested  on  the  smooth  surface. 
She  did  not  quite  wish  to  be  as  near  him  as  that ;  at 
least,  not  yet. 

"  I  will  creep  down  over  the  arm,"  she  said,  "  and 


204  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

then  you  can  follow  me.  I  hope  there  are  no  beasts," 
she  added.  "  I  hate  spiders." 

Malipieri  lowered  his  lantern  beside  her,  and  she 
crept  along  towards  the  statue's  head.  In  a  few  mo 
ments  he  was  beside  her,  bringing  both  the  lantern  and 
the  lamp  with  him.  They  had  both  forgotten  Masin's 
existence,  as  he  had  not  yet  appeared.  Sabina  looked 
about  for  spiders,  but  there  were  none  in  sight.  The 
vault  was  perfectly  dry,  and  there  was  hardly  any  dust 
clinging  to  the  rough  mortar  that  covered  the  stones. 
It  was  clear  that  the  framework  must  have  been  care 
fully  removed,  and  the  place  thoroughly  cleaned,  before 
the  statue  had  been  drawn  into  the  vault  from  one 
end. 

"  He  is  perfectly  hideous,"  said  Sabina,  as  they 
reached  the  huge  face.  "  But  it  is  magnificent,"  she 
added,  passing  her  gloved  hand  over  the  great  golden 
features.  "  I  wonder  who  it  is  meant  for." 

"  A  Roman  emperor  as  Hercules,  I  think,"  Malipieri 
answered.  "  It  may  be  Commodus.  We  are  so  near 
that  it  is  hard  to  know  how  the  head  would  look  if  the 
statue  were  set  up." 

He  was  thinking  very  little  of  the  statue  just  then, 
as  he  knelt  on  its  colossal  chest  beside  Sabina,  and 
watched  the  play  of  the  yellow  light  on  her  delicate 
face.  There  was  just  room  for  them  to  kneel  there, 
side  by  side. 

It  was  magnificent,  as  Sabina  had  said,  the  great 
glittering  thing,  lying  all  alone  in  the  depths  of  the 
earth,  an  enormous  golden  demigod  in  his  tomb. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  205 

"  You  are  wonderful !  "  exclaimed  Sabina,  suddenly 
turning  her  face  to  Malipieri. 

"Why?" 

"To  have  found  it,"  she  explained. 

"I  wish  I  had  found  something  more  practical,"  he 
answered.  "  In  my  opinion  this  thing  belongs  to  you, 
and  I  suppose  it  represents  a  small  fortune.  But  the 
only  way  for  you  to  get  even  a  share  of  it  will  be  by 
bringing  a  suit  against  Volterra.  Half  a  dozen  rubies 
like  the  one  in  the  ring  would  have  been  enough  for 
you,  and  you  could  have  taken  them  home  with  you 
in  your  pocket." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  have  none  !  "     Sabina  laughed. 

"  This  one  will  be  safe  in  mine,"  Malipieri  answered. 

"  You  are  not  going  to  take  it?  "  cried  Sabina,  a  little 
frightened. 

"  Yes.  I  am  going  to  take  it  for  you.  I  daresay  it 
is  worth  a  good  deal  of  money." 

"But  — is  it  yours?" 

"No.     It  is  yours." 

"I  wonder  whether  I  have  any  right  to  it."  Sabina 
was  perhaps  justly  doubtful  about  the  proceeding. 

"  I  do  not  care  a  straw  for  the  government,  or  the 
laws,  or  Volterra,  where  you  are  concerned.  You  shall 
have  what  is  yours.  Shall  we  get  down  to  the  gitmnd 
and  see  if  there  is  anything  else  in  the  vault  ? " 

He  let  himself  slide  over  the  left  shoulder,  and  the 
lion's  skin  that  was  modelled  over  it,  and  Sabina  fol 
lowed  him  cautiously.  By  bending  their  heads  they 
could  now  stand  and  walk,  and  there  was  a  space  fully 


206  THE   HEART    OF   ROME 

five  feet  wide,  between  the  statue  and  the  perpendicu 
lar  masonry  from  which  the  vault  sprang. 

Malipieri  stopped  short,  with  both  lights  in  his  hand, 
and  uttered  an  exclamation. 

"What  is  it?  "  asked  Sabina.  "  Oh  !  "  she  cried,  as 
she  saw  what  he  had  come  upon. 

For  some  moments  neither  spoke,  and  they  stood  side 
by  side,  pressed  against  each  other  in  the  narrow  way 
and  gazing  down,  for  before  them  lay  the  most  beauti 
ful  marble  statue  Sabina  had  ever  seen.  In  the  yellow 
light  it  was  like  a  living  woman  asleep  rather  than  a 
marble  goddess,  hewn  and  chipped,  smoothed  and 
polished  into  shape  ages  ago,  by  men's  hands. 

She  lay  a  little  turned  to  one  side  and  away;  the 
arm  that  was  undermost  was  raised,  so  that  the  head 
seemed  to  be  resting  against  it,  though  it  was  not ; 
the  other  lying  along  and  across  the  body,  its  perfect 
hand  just  gathering  up  a  delicately  futile  drapery. 
The  figure  was  whole  and  unbroken,  of  cream-like 
marble,  that  made  soft  living  shadows  in  each  dimple 
and  hollow  and  seemed  to  quiver  along  the  lines  of 
beauty,  the  shoulder  just  edging  forwards,  the  bent 
arm,  the  marvellous  sweep  of  the  limbs  from  hip 
to  heel. 

"it  is  a  Venus,  is  it  not?"  asked  Sabina  with  an 
odd  little  timidity. 

"Aphrodite,"  answered  Malipieri,  almost  uncon 
sciously. 

It  was  not  the  plump,  thick-ankled,  doubtfully 
decent  Venus  which  the  late  Greeks  made  for  their 


THE  HEART   OF   ROME  207 

Roman  masters ;  it  was  not  that  at  all.  It  was 
their  own  Aphrodite,  delicate,  tender  and  deadly  as 
the  foam  of  the  sea  whence  she  came  to  them. 

Sabina  would  scarcely  have  wondered  if  she  had 
turned  and  smiled,  there  on  the  ground,  to  brush  the 
shadows  of  ages  from  her  opening  eyes,  and  to  say  "  I 
must  have  slept,"  like  a  woman  waked  by  her  lover 
from  a  dream  of  kisses.  That  would  have  seemed 
natural. 

Malipieri  felt  that  he  was  holding  his  breath.  Sabina 
was  so  close  to  him  that  it  was  as  if  he  could  feel  her 
heart  beating  near  his  own,  and  as  fast ;  and  for  a  mo 
ment  he  felt  one  of  those  strong  impulses  which  strong 
men  know  when  to  resist,  but  to  resist  which  is  like 
wrestling  against  iron  hands.  He  longed,  as  he  had 
never  longed  for  anything  in  his  life,  to  draw  her  yet 
closer  to  him  and  to  press  his  lips  hard  upon  hers,  with 
out  a  word. 

Instead,  he  edged  away  from  her,  and  held  the  lights 
low  beside  the  wonderful  statue  so  that  she  might  see 
it  better;  and  Aphrodite's  longing  mouth,  that  had 
kissed  gods,  was  curved  with  a  little  scorn  for  men. 

The  air  was  still  and  dry,  and  Sabina  felt  a  strange 
little  thrill  in  her  hair  and  just  at  the  back  of  her  neck. 
Perhaps,  in  the  unknown  ways  of  fruitful  nature,  the 
girl  was  dimly  aware  of  the  tremendous  manly  impulse 
of  possession,  so  near  her  in  that  narrow  and  silent 
place.  Something  sent  a  faint  blush  to  her  cheek,  and 
she  was  glad  there  was  not  much  light,  and  she  did  not 
wish  to  speak  for  a  little  while. 


208  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

"  I  hate  to  think  that  she  has  lain  so  long  beside  that 
gilded  Roman  monster,"  said  Malipieri  presently. 

The  vast  brutality  of  the  herculean  emperor  had  not 
disgusted  him  at  first ;  it  had  merely  displeased  his 
taste.  Now,  it  became  suddenly  an  atrocious  contrast 
to  the  secret  loveliness  of  unveiled  beauty.  That  was 
a  manly  instinct  in  him,  too,  and  Sabina  felt  it. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  softly.  "  And  she  seems  almost 
alive." 

"  The  gods  and  goddesses  live  for  ever,"  Malipieri 
answered,  smiling  and  looking  at  her,  in  spite  of 
himself. 

Her  eyes  met  his  at  once,  and  did  not  turn  away. 
He  fancied  that  they  grew  darker  in  the  shadow,  and 
in  the  short  silence. 

"  I  suppose  we  ought  to  be  going,"  she  said,  still  look- 
-ing  at  him.  "Poor  old  Sassi  is  waiting  in  the  cellar." 

"  We  have  not  been  all  round  the  vault  yet,"  he 
answered.  "There  may  be  something  more." 

"  No,  she  has  been  alone  with  the  monster,  all  these 
centuries.  I  am  sure  of  it.  There  cannot  be  anything 
else." 

"  We  had  better  look,  nevertheless,"  said  Malipieri. 
"  I  want  you  to  see  everything  there  is,  and  you  cannot 
come  here  again  —  not  in  this  way." 

"  Well,  let  us  go  round."     Sabina  moved. 

"  Besides,"  continued  Malipieri,  going  slowly  forward 
and  lighting  the  way,  "  I  am  going  to  leave  the  palace 
the  day  after  to-morrow." 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  Sabina,  in  surprise. 


THE   HEAKT   OF   ROME  209 

"  Because  Volterra  has  requested  me  to  go.  I  may 
have  to  leave  Rome  altogether." 

"  Leave  Rome  ?  " 

Her  own  voice  sounded  harsh  to  her  as  she  spoke 
the  words.  She  had  been  so  sure  that  he  was  in  love 
with  her,  she  had  begun  to  know  that  she  would  soon 
love  him  ;  and  he  was  going  away  already. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  answered,  going  on.  "  I  am  not 
sure." 

"  But  —  "     Sabina  checked  herself  and  bit  her  lip. 

"What?" 

"Nothing.     Go  on,  please.    It  must  be  getting  late." 

There  was  nothing  more  in  the  vault.  They  went  all 
round  the  gilt  statue  without  speaking,  came  back  to 
the  feet  of  the  Aphrodite  from  the  further  side  and 
stopped  to  look  again.  Still  neither  spoke  for  a  long 
time.  Malipieri  held  the  lights  in  several  positions, 
trying  to  find  the  best. 

"  Why  must  you  leave  Rome  ? "  Sabina  asked,  at 
last,  without  turning  her  face  to  him. 

"I  am  not  sure  that  I  must.  I  said  I  might,  that 
was  all." 

Sabina  tapped  the  ground  impatiently  with  her  foot. 

"  Why  <  may '  you  have  to  go,  then  ?  "  she  asked  a 
little  sharply. 

"Volterra  may  be  able  to  drive  me  away.  He  will 
try,  because  he  is  afraid  I  may  wish  to  get  a  share  in 
the  discovery." 

"  Oh  !     Then  you  will  not  leave  Rome,  unless  you 
are  driven  away?" 
p 


210  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

Malipieri  tried  to  see  her  eyes,  but  she  looked  steadily 
down  at  the  statue. 

"  No,"  he  said.     "  Certainly  not." 

Sabina  said  nothing,  but  her  expression  changed  and 
softened  at  once.  He  could  see  that,  even  in  the  play 
of  the  shadows.  She  raised  her  head,  glanced  at  him, 
and  moved  to  go  on.  After  making  a  few  steps  in  the 
direction  of  the  aperture  she  stopped  suddenly  as  if 
listening.  Malipieri  held  his  breath,  and  then  he 
heard,  too. 

It  was  the  unmistakable  sound  of  water  trickling 
faster  and  faster  over  stones.  For  an  instant  his 
blood  stood  still.  Then  he  set  the  lamp  down,  grasped 
Sabina's  wrist  and  hurried  her  along,  carrying  only  the 
lantern. 

"  Come  as  fast  as  you  can,"  he  said,  controlling  his 
voice. 

She  understood  that  there  was  danger  and  obeyed 
without  losing  her  head.  As  he  helped  her  up  through 
the  hole  in  the  vault,  she  felt  herself  very  light  in  his 
hands.  In  a  moment  he  was  beside  her,  and  they  were 
hurrying  towards  the  inclined  passage,  bending  low. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  BROAD  stream  of  water  was  pouring  down,  and 
spreading  on  each  side  in  the  space  between  the  vaults. 
In  a  flash,  Malipieri  understood.  The  dry  well  had 
filled,  but  the  overflow  shaft  was  covered  with  the 
weighted  boards,  and  only  a  little  water  could  get 
down  through  the  cracks.  The  rest  was  pouring 
down  the  passage,  and  would  soon  fill  the  vault, 
which  was  at  a  much  lower  level. 

"  Stay  here  !     Do  not  move  !  " 

Sabina  stood  still,  but  she  trembled  a  little,  as  he 
dashed  up  through  the  swift,  shallow  stream,  not 
ankle  deep,  but  steady  as  fate.  In  a  moment  he  had 
disappeared  from  her  sight,  and  she  was  all  alone  in 
the  dismal  place,  in  darkness,  save  for  a  little  light 
that  forced  its  way  up  from  below  through  the  hole. 
It  seemed  five  minutes  before  his  plashing  footsteps 
stopped,  up  there  in  the  passage ;  then  came  instantly 
the  noise  of  stones  thrown  aside  into  the  water,  and 
of  heavy  pieces  of  board  grating  and  bumping,  as 
they  floated  for  a  moment.  Almost  instantly  a  loud 
roar  came  from  the  same  direction,  as  the  inflowing 
stream  from  the  well  thundered  down  the  shaft. 
Sabina  heard  Malipieri's  voice  calling  to  her,  and  his 
approaching  footsteps. 

211 


212  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

"  The  water  cannot  reach  you  now !  "  he  cried. 

It  had  already  stopped  running  down  the  passage, 
when  Malipieri  emerged,  dripping  and  holding  out 
the  lantern  in  front  of  him,  as  his  feet  slipped  on 
the  wet  stones.  Sabina  was  very  pale,  but  quite 
quiet. 

"  What   has   happened  ? "   she   asked   mechanically. 

"  The  water  has  risen  suddenly,"  he  said,  paler  than 
she, .  for  he  knew  the  whole  danger.  "  We  cannot 
get  out  till  it  goes  down." 

"How  soon  will  that  be?"   Sabina  asked  steadily. 

"  I  do  not  know." 

They  looked  at  each  other,  and  neither  spoke  for  a 
moment. 

"  Do  you  think  it  may  be  several  hours  ? "  asked 
Sabina. 

"Yes,  perhaps  several  hours." 

Something  in  his  tone  told  her  that  matters  might 
be  worse  than  that. 

"  Tell  me  the  truth,"  she  said.  "  It  may  be  days 
before  the  water  goes  down.  We  may  die  here.  Is 
that  what  you  mean?" 

"  Unless  I  can  make  another  way  out,  that  is  what 
may  happen.  We  may  starve  here." 

"  You  will  find  the  other  way  out,"  Sabina  said 
quietly.  "  I  know  you  will." 

She  would  rather  have  died  that  moment  than  have 
let  him  think  her  a  coward ;  and  she  was  really  brave, 
and  was  vaguely  conscious  that  she  was,  and  that  she 
could  trust  her  nerves,  as  long  as  her  bodily  strength 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  213 

lasted.  But  it  would  be  very  horrible  to  die  of  hunger, 
and  in  such  a  place.  It  was  better  not  to  think  of 
it.  He  stood  before  her,  with  his  lantern,  a  pale, 
courageous,  strong  man,  whom  she  could  not  help 
trusting ;  he  would  find  that  other  way. 

"  You  had  better  get  down  again,"  he  said,  after  a 
little  reflection.  "  It  is  dry  below,  and  the  lamp  is  there." 

"  I  can  help  you." 

Malipieri  looked  at  the  slight  figure  and  the  little 
gloved  hands  and  smiled. 

"  I  am  very  strong,"  Sabina  said,  "  much  stronger 
than  you  think.  Besides,  I  could  not  sit  all  alone 
down  there  while  you  are  groping  about.  The  water 
might  come  down  and  drown  me,  you  know." 

"  It  cannot  run  down,  now.  If  it  could,  I  should 
be  drowned  first." 

"  That  would  not  exactly  be  a  consolation,"  an 
swered  Sabina.  "What  are  you  going  to  do?  I 
suppose  we  cannot  break  through  the  roof  where  we 
are,  can  we?" 

"  There  must  be  ten  or  fifteen  feet  of  earth  above 
it.  We  are  under  the  courtyard  here." 

Sabina's  slight  shoulders  shuddered  a  little,  for  the 
first  time,  as  she  realized  that  she  was  perhaps  buried 
alive,  far  beyond  the  possibility  of  being  heard  by  any 
human  being. 

"  The  water  must  have  risen  very  soon  after  we 
came  down,"  Malipieri  said  thoughtfully.  "  That  is 
why  my  man  could  not  get  to  us.  He  could  not  get 
into  the  well." 


214  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

"  At  all  events  he  is  not  here,"  Sabina  answered, 
"  so  it  makes  no  difference  where  he  is." 

"  He  will  try  to  help  us  from  without.  That  is 
what  I  am  thinking  of.  The  first  thing  to  be  done 
is  to  put  out  that  lamp,  for  we  must  not  waste  light. 
I  had  forgotten  that." 

Sabina  had  not  thought  of  it  either,  and  she  waited 
while  he  went  down  again  and  brought  the  lamp  up. 
He  extinguished  it  at  once  and  set  it  down. 

"  Only  three  ways  are  possible,"  he  said,  "  and  two 
are  out  of  the  question.  We  cannot  get  up  the  old 
shaft  above  the  well.  It  is  of  no  use  to  think  of 
that.  We  cannot  get  down  the  overflow  and  out  by 
the  drains  because  the  water  is  pouring  down  there, 
and  besides,  the  Tiber  must  have  risen  with  the  rain." 

"Which  is  the  third  way?" 

"To  break  an  opening  through  the  wall  in  the 
highest  part  of  the  passage.  It  may  take  a  long 
time,  for  I  have  no  idea  how  thick  the  wall  may  be, 
and  the  passage  is  narrow.  But  we  must  try  it,  and 
perhaps  Masin  will  go  to  work  nearly  at  the  same 
spot,  for  he  knows  as  much  about  this  place  as  I  do, 
and  we  have  often  talked  about  it.  I  have  some 
tools  down  here.  Will  you  come?  We  must  not 
waste  time." 

"  I  can  hold  the  lantern,"  said  Sabina.  "  That  may 
be  of  some  use." 

Malipieri  gave  her  the  lantern  and  took  up  the 
crowbar  and  pickaxe  which  lay  near  the  hole  in  the 
vault. 


THE  HEART   OF   ROME  215 

"You  will  wet  your  feet,  I  am  afraid,"  he  said, 
as  they  went  up  the  passage,  and  he  was  obliged  to 
speak  in  a  louder  tone  to  be  heard  above  the  steady 
roar  of  the  water. 

He  had  marked  the  spot  where  he  had  expected  that 
a  breach  would  have  to  be  made  to  admit  visitors  con 
veniently,  and  he  had  no  trouble  in  finding  it.  He  set 
the  stones  he  had  taken  off  the  boards  in  a  proper  posi 
tion,  laid  one  of  the  wet  boards  upon  them,  and  then 
took  off  his  coat  and  folded  it  for  a  cushion,  more  or  less 
dry.  He  made  Sabina  sit  down  with  the  lantern,  though 
she  protested. 

"  I  cannot  work  with  my  coat  on,"  he  answered,  "  so 
you  may  as  well  sit  on  it." 

He  set  to  work,  and  said  no  more.  The  first  thing 
to  be  done  was  to  sound  the  thickness  of  the  wall,  if 
possible,  by  making  a  small  hole  through  the  bricks. 
If  this  could  be  done,  and  if  Masin  was  on  the  other 
side,  a  communication  could  be  established.  He  knew 
well  enough  that  even  with  help  from  without,  many 
hours  might  be  necessary  in  order  to  make  a  way  big 
enough  for  Sabina  to  get  out ;  it  was  most  important 
to  make  an  opening  through  which  food  could  be 
passed  in  for  her.  He  had  to  begin  by  using  his  pick 
axe  because  the  passage  was  so  narrow  that  he  could 
not  get  his  crowbar  across  it,  much  less  use  it  with  any 
effect.  It  was  very  slow  work  at  first,  but  he  did  it 
systematically  and  with  steady  energy. 

Sabina  watched  him  in  silence  for  a  long  time,  vaguely 
wondering  when  he  would  be  tired  and  would  be 


216  THE  HEART   OF   ROME 

obliged  to  stop  and  rest.  Somehow,  it  was  impossible  to 
feel  that  the  situation  was  really  horrible,  while  such  a 
man  was  toiling  before  her  eyes  to  set  her  free.  From 
the  first,  she  was  perfectly  sure  that  he  would  succeed, 
but  she  had  not  at  all  understood  what  the  actual 
labour  must  be. 

He  had  used  his  pickaxe  for  more  than  half  an  hour, 
and  had  made  a  hollow  about  a  foot  and  a  half  deep, 
when  he  rested  on  the  shaft  of  the  tool,  and  listened 
attentively.  If  the  wall  were  not  enormously  thick, 
and  if  any  one  were  working  on  the  other  side,  he  was 
sure  that  he  could  hear  the  blows,  even  above  the  roar 
of  the  water.  But  he  could  distinguish  no  sound. 

The  water  came  in  steadily  from  the  full  well,  a 
stream  filling  the  passage  beyond  the  dark  chasm  into 
which  it  was  falling,  and  at  least  six  inches  deep.  It 
sent  back  the  light  of  the  lantern  in  broken  reflections 
and  shivered  gleams.  Sabina  did  not  like  to  look  that 
way. 

She  was  cold,  now,  and  she  felt  that  her  clothes  were 
damp,  and  a  strange  drowsiness  came  over  her,  brought 
on  by  the  monotonous  tone  of  the  water.  Malipieri 
had  taken  up  his  crowbar. 

"  I  wonder  what  time  it  is,"  Sabina  said,  before  he 
struck  the  wall  again. 

He  looked  at  his  watch. 

"  It  is  six  o'clock,"  he  answered,  trying  to  speak  cheer 
fully.  "  It  is  not  at  all  late  yet.  Are  you  hungry  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !     We  never  dine  till  eight." 

"  But  you  are  cold  ?  " 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  217 

"  A  little.     It  is  no  matter." 

"  If  you  will  get  up  I  will  put  my  waistcoat  on  the 
board  for  you  to  sit  upon,  and  then  you  can  put  my 
coat  over  your  shoulders.  I  am  too  hot." 

"Thank  you." 

She  obeyed,  and  he  made  her  as  comfortable  as  he 
could,  a  forlorn  little  figure  in  her  fawn-coloured  hat, 
wrapped  in  his  grey  tweed  coat,  that  looked  utterly 
shapeless  on  her. 

"  Courage,"  he  said,  as  he  picked  up  his  crowbar. 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  she  answered. 

"Most  women  would  be." 

He  went  to  work  again,  with  the  end  of  the  heavy 
bar,  striking  regularly  at  the  deepest  part  of  the  hol 
low,  and  working  the  iron  round  and  round,  to  loosen 
the  brick  wherever  that  was  possible.  But  he  made 
slow  progress,  horribly  slow,  as  Sabina  realized  when 
nearly  half  an  hour  had  passed  again,  and  he  paused  to 
listen.  He  was  much  more  alarmed  than  he  would 
allow  her  to  guess,  for  he  was  now  quite  convinced  that 
Masin  was  not  working  on  the  other  side ;  he  knew 
that  his  strength  would  never  be  equal  to  breaking 
through,  unless  the  crowbar  ran  suddenly  into  an  open 
space  beyond,  within  the  next  half-hour.  The  wall 
might  be  of  any  thickness,  perhaps  as  much  as  six  or 
seven  feet,  and  the  bricks  were  very  hard  and  were  well 
cemented.  Perhaps,  too,  he  had  made  a  mistake  in  his 
rough  calculations  and  was  not  working  at  the  right 
spot  after  all.  He  was  possibly  hammering  away  at 
the  end  of  a  cross  wall,  following  it  in  its  length. 


218  THE  HEART   OF   ROME 

That  risk  had  to  be  taken,  however,  for  there  was 
at  least  as  good  a  chance  of  breaking  through  at  this 
point  as  at  any  other.  He  believed  that  by  resting 
now  and  then  for  a  short  time,  he  could  use  his  tools 
for  sixteen  or  eighteen  hours,  after  which,  if  he  were 
without  food,  his  strength  would  begin  to  give  way. 
There  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  go  on  patiently, 
doing  his  best  not  to  waste  time,  and  yet  not  overtax 
ing  his  energy  so  as  to  break  down  before  he  had  done 
the  utmost  possible. 

He  would  not  think  of  what  must  come  after  that, 
if  he  failed,  and  if  the  water  did  not  subside. 

Sabina  understood  very  imperfectly  what  had  hap 
pened,  and  there  had  been  no  time  to  explain.  He 
could  not  work  and  yet  talk  to  her  so  as  to  be  heard 
above  the  roaring  of  the  water  and  the  noise  of  the 
iron  bar  striking  against  the  bricks.  She  knew  that, 
and  she  expected  nothing  of  him  beyond  what  he  was 
doing,  which  was  all  a  man  could  do. 

She  drew  his  coat  closely  round  her  and  leaned  back 
against  the  damp  wall ;  and  with  half -closed  eyes  she 
watched  the  moving  shadows  of  his  arms  cast  011  the 
wall  opposite  by  the  lantern.  He  worked  as  steadily 
as  a  machine,  except  when  he  withdrew  the  bar  for  a 
moment,  in  order  to  clear  out  the  broken  brick  and 
mortar  with  his  hand  ;  then  again  the  bar  struck  the 
solid  stuff,  and  recoiled  in  his  grasp  and  struck  again, 
regularly  as  the  swinging  of  a  pendulum. 

But  no  echo  came  back  from  an  emptiness  beyond. 
Ignorant  as  Sabina  was  of  all  such  things,  her  instinct 


THE   HEART   OP   ROME  219 

told  her  that  the  masonry  was  enormously  thick  ;  and 
yet  her  faith  in  him  made  him  sure  that  he  had  chosen 
the  only  spot  where  there  was  a  chance  at  all. 

Sometimes  she  almost  forgot  the  danger  for  a  little 
while.  It  pleased  her  to  watch  him,  and  to  follow  the 
rhythmic  movements  of  his  strong  and  graceful  body. 
It  is  a  good  sight  to  see  an  athletic  man  exerting  every 
nerve  and  muscle  wisely  and  skilfully  in  a  very  long- 
continued  effort;  and  the  woman  who  has  seen  a  man 
do  that  to  save  her  own  life  is  not  likely  to  forget  it. 

And  then,  again,  the  drowsiness  came  over  her,  and 
she  was  almost  asleep,  and  woke  with  a  shiver,  feeling 
cold.  He  had  given  her  his  watch  to  hold,  when  he 
had  made  her  sit  on  his  waistcoat,  and  she  had  squeezed 
it  under  her  glove  into  the  palm  of  her  hand.  It  was 
a  plain  silver  watch  with  no  chain.  She  got  it  out  and 
looked  at  it. 

Eight  o'clock,  now.  The  time  had  passed  quickly, 
and  she  must  have  really  been  asleep.  The  Baron  and 
his  wife  were  just  going  to  sit  down  to  dinner,  unless 
her  disappearance  had  produced  confusion  in  the  house. 
But  they  would  not  be  frightened,  though  they  might 
be  angry.  The  servants  would  have  told  them  that 
Signor  Sassi,  whose  card  was  there  to  prove  his  com 
ing,  had  asked  for  Donna  Sabina,  and  that  she  had 
gone  out  with  him  in  a  cab,  dressed  for  walking. 
Signor  Sassi  was  a  highly  respectable  person,  and 
though  it  might  be  a  little  eccentric,  according  to  the 
Baroness's  view,  for  Sabina  to  go  out  with  him  in  a 
cab,  especially  in  the  afternoon,  there  could  really  be 


220  THE   HEART   OF   KOME 

no  great  harm  in  it.  The  Baroness  would  be  angry 
because  she  had  stayed  out  so  late.  The  Baroness 
would  be  much  angrier  by  and  by,  when  she  knew 
what  had  really  happened,  and  it  must  all  be  known, 
of  course.  When  Sassi  was  sure  that  Masin  could  not 
get  the  two  out  of  the  vault  himself,  or  with  such 
ordinary  help  as  he  could  procure,  he  would  have  to 
go  to  the  Baron,  who  would  instantly  inform  the 
authorities,  and  bring  an  engineer  and  a  crowd  of 
masons  to  break  a  way.  There  was  some  comfort  in 
that,  after  all.  It  was  quite  impossible  that  she  and 
Malipieri  should  be  left  to  starve  to  death. 

Besides,  she  was  not  at  all  hungry,  though  it  was 
dinner  time.  She  was  only  cold  and  sleepy.  She 
wished  she  could  take  the  crowbar  from  Malipieri's 
hands  and  use  it  for  a  few  minutes,  just  to  warm  her 
self.  He  had  said  that  he  was  too  hot,  and  by  the 
uncertain  light  she  fancied  she  could  see  a  little  mois 
ture  on  his  white  forehead. 

She  was  right  in  that,  for  he  was  growing  tired  and 
knew  that  before  long  he  must  rest  for  at  least  a  quar 
ter  of  an  hour.  The  hole  was  now  three  feet  deep  or 
more,  yet  no  hollow  sound  came  back  from  the  blows 
he  dealt.  His  arms  were  beginning  to  ache,  and  he 
began  to  count  the  strokes.  He  would  strike  a  hun 
dred  more,  and  then  he  would  rest.  He  kept  up  the 
effort  steadily  to  the  end,  and  then  laid  down  the  bar 
and  passed  his  handkerchief  over  his  forehead.  Sabina 
watched  him  and  looked  up  into  his  face  when  he 
turned  to  her. 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  221 

"You  are  tired,"  she  said,  rising  and  standing  be 
side  him,  so  as  to  speak  more  easily. 

"I  shall  be  quite  rested  in  a  few  minutes,"  he 
answered,  "and  then  I  will  go  on." 

"  You  must  be  very  strong,"  said  Sabina. 

Then  she  told  him  what  she  had  been  thinking  of, 
and  how  it  was  certain  that  the  Baron  would  bring  a 
large  force  of  men  to  set  them  free.  Malipieri  listened 
to  the  end,  and  nodded  thoughtfully.  She  was  right, 
supposing  that  nothing  had  happened  to  Sassi  and 
Masin ;  but  he  knew  his  own  man,  and  judged  that  he 
must  have  made  some  desperate  attempt  to  stop  the 
inflowing  water  in  the  outer  chamber,  and  it  was  not 
impossible  that  poor  old  Sassi,  in  his  devotion  to 
Sabina,  had  made  a  mad  effort  to  help  Masin,  and  that 
they  had  both  lost  their  lives  together.  If  that  had 
happened,  there  was  no  one  to  tell  Volterra  where 
Sabina  was.  Enquiries  at  Sassi's  house  would  be  use 
less  ;  all  that  could  be  known  would  be  that  he  had 
gone  out  between  four  and  five  o'clock,  that  he  had 
called  at  the  house  in  the  Via  Ludovisi,  and  that  he 
and  Sabina  had  driven  away  together.  No  doubt,  in 
time,  the  police  could  find  the  cab  they  had  .taken,  and 
the  cabman  would  remember  that  they  had  paid  him 
at  the  Palazzo  Conti.  But  all  that  would  take  a  long 
time.  The  porter  knew  nothing  of  their  coming,  and 
being  used  to  Malipieri's  ways  would  not  think  of 
ringing  at  his  door.  In  time  Toto  would  doubtless 
break  out,  but  he  had  not  seen  Sabina,  for  Malipieri 
had  been  very  careful  to  make  her  walk  close  to  the  wall. 


222  THE    HEART   OF    HOME 

He  did  not  tell  Sabina  these  things,  as  it  was  better 
that  she  should  look  forward  to  being  set  free  in  a  few 
hours,  but  he  had  very  grave  doubts  about  the  likeli 
hood  of  any  such  good  fortune. 

"  You  must  sit  down,"  said  Sabina.  "  You  cannot 
rest  unless  you  sit  down.  I  will  stand  for  a  while." 

"  There  is  room  for  us  both,"  Malipieri  answered. 

They  sat  down  side  by  side  on  the  board  with  the 
lantern  at  their  feet,  and  they  were  very  close  together. 

"But  you  will  catch  cold,  now  that  you  have  stopped 
working,"  Sabina  said  suddenly.  "  How  stupid  of 
me  !  " 

As  she  spoke  she  pulled  his  coat  off  her  shoulders, 
and  tried  to  throw  it  over  his ;  but  he  resisted,  saying 
that  he  could  not  possibly  have  time  to  catch  cold,  if 
he  went  back  to  work  in  a  few  minutes.  Yet  he 
already  felt  the  horrible  dampness  that  came  up  out  of 
the  overflow  shaft  and  settled  on  everything  in  glisten 
ing  beads.  It  only  made  him  understand  how  cold 
she  must  be,  after  sitting  idle  for  two  hours. 

"Do  you  think  we  shall  get  out  to-night?"  Sabina 
asked  suddenly,  with  the  coat  in  her  hand. 

"I  hope. so,"  he  answered. 

She  stood  up,  and  looked  at  the  cavity  he  had  made 
in  the  wall. 

"  Where  will  that  lead  to?  "  she  enquired. 

He  had  risen,  too. 

"  It  ought  to  lead  into  the  coach-house,  so  far  as  I 
can  judge." 

Instinctively,  he  went  forward  to  examine  the  hole, 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  223 

and  at  that  moment  Sabina  cleverly  threw  the  coat 
over  his  shoulders  and  held  it  round  his  neck  with 
both  her  hands. 

"  There  !  "  she  cried.  "  You  are  caught  now  !  " 
And  she  laughed  as  lightly  as  if  there  were  no  such 
thing  as  danger. 

Malipieri  wondered  whether  she  realized  the  gravity 
of  the  situation,  or  whether  she  were  only  pretending 
to  be  gay  in  order  to  make  it  easier  for  him.  In  either 
case  she  was  perfectly  brave. 

"  You  must  not !  "  he  answered,  gently  trying  to 
free  himself.  "You  need  it  more  than  I." 

"I  wonder  if  it  is  big  enough  to  cover  us  both," 
Sabina  said,  as  the  idea  struck  her.  "  Come  !  sit  down 
beside  me  and  we  will  try." 

He  smiled  and  sat  down  beside  her,  and  they  man 
aged  to  hold  the  coat  so  that  it  just  covered  their 
shoulders. 

"  Paul  and  Virginia,"  said  Malipieri,  and  they  both 
laughed  a  little. 

But  as  their  laughter  died  away,  Sabina's  teeth  chat 
tered,  and  she  drew  in  her  breath.  At  the  slight 
sound  Malipieri  looked  anxiously  into  her  face,  and 
saw  that  her  lips  were  blue. 

"  This  is  folly,"  he  said.  "  You  will  fall  ill  if  you 
stay  here  any  longer.  It  is  quite  dry  in  the  vault,  and 
warm  by  comparison  with  this  place.  You  must  go 
down  there,  while  I  stay  here  and  work." 

He  got  up,  and  in  spite  of  a  little  resistance  he  made 
her  put  her  arms  into  the  sleeves  of  the  coat,  and 


224  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

turned  the  cuffs  back,  and  fastened  the  buttons.  She 
was  shivering  from  head  to  foot. 

"  What  a  miserable  little  thing  I  am  !  "  she  cried 
impatiently. 

"You  are  not  a  miserable  little  thing,  and  you  are 
much  braver  than  most  men,"  said  Malipieri.  "  But  it 
will  be  of  very  little  use  to  get  you  out  of  the  vault 
alive  if  you  are  to  die  of  a  fever  in  a  day  or  two." 

She  said  nothing  and  he  led  her  carefully  down  the 
inclined  passage  and  the  steps,  away  from  the  gloomy 
overflow,  and  the  roaring  water  and  the  fearful  damp 
ness.  He  helped  her  down  into  the  vault  very  gently, 
over  the  glittering  chest  of  the  great  imperial  statue. 
The  air  felt  warm  and  dry,  now  that  she  was  so  badly 
chilled,  and  her  lips  looked  a  little  less  blue. 

"  I  will  light  the  lamp,  and  turn  it  very  low,"  said 
Malipieri. 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  the  dark,"  Sabina  answered. 
"You  said  that  we  must  not  waste  our  light." 

"  Shall  you  really  not  be  nervous  ?  "  Malipieri  sup 
posed  that  all  women  were  afraid  to  be  in  the  dark 
alone. 

"Of  course  not.  Why  should  I?  There  are  no 
spiders,  and  I  do  not  believe  in  ghosts.  Besides,  I 
shall  hear  you  hammering  at  the  wall." 

"  You  had  better  sit  on  the  body  of  the  Venus.  I 
think  the  marble  is  warmer  than  the  bronze.  But 
there  is  the  board  —  I  forgot.  Wait  a  minute." 

He  was  not  gone  long,  and  came  back  bringing  the 
board  and  his  waistcoat.  To  his  surprise,  he  found 


THE  HEART   OF   HOME  225 

her  sitting  on  the  ground,  propping  herself  with  one 
hand. 

"  I  felt  a  little  dizzy  in  the  dark,"  she  explained,  "  so 
I  sat  down,  for  fear  of  falling." 

He  glanced  at  her  face,  and  his  own  was  grave,  as  he 
placed  the  board  on  the  ground,  and  laid  the  waistcoat 
over  the  curving  waist  of  the  Aphrodite,  so  that  she 
could  lean  against  it.  She  got  up  quickly  when  it  was 
ready  and  seated  herself,  drawing  up  her  knees  and 
pulling  her  skirt  closely  round  her  damp  shoes  to  keep 
her  feet  warm,  if  possible.  He  set  the  lamp  beside  her 
and  gave  her  a  little  silver  box  of  matches,  so  that  she 
could  get  a  light  if  she  felt  nervous.  He  looked  at  her 
face  thoughtfully  as  he  stood  with  his  lantern  in  his 
hand,  ready  to  go. 

"But  you  have  nothing  to  put  on,  if  you  have  to 
rest  again  !  "  she  said,  rather  feebly. 

"  I  will  come  and  rest  here,  about  once  an  hour,"  he 
answered. 

Her  face  brightened  a  little,  and  she  nodded,  looking 
up  into  his  eyes. 

"Yes.     Come  and  rest  beside  me,"  she  said. 

He  went  away,  climbing  over  the  statue  and  out 
through  the  hole  in  the  vault.  Just  before  he  disap 
peared,  he  held  up  his  lantern  and  looked  towards  her. 
She  was  watching  him. 

"  Good-night,"  he  said.     "  Try  to  sleep  a  little." 

"  Come  back  soon,"  she  answered  faintly,  and  smiled. 

Presently  he  was  at  work  again,  steadily  driving  the 
bar  against  the  hard  bricks,  steadily  chipping  away 


226  THE   HEART   OP   ROME 

a  little  at  a  time,  steadily  making  progress  against 
the  enormous  obstacle.  The  only  question  was  whether 
his  strength  would  last,  for  if  he  had  been  able  to  get 
food,  it  would  have  been  merely  a  matter  of  time. 
A  crowbar  does  not  wear  down  much  on  bricks. 

At  first,  perfectly  mechanical  work  helps  a  man  to 
think,  as  walking  generally  does ;  but  little  by  little  it 
dulls  the  faculties  and  makes  thought  almost  impos 
sible.  Senseless  words  begin  to  repeat  themselves  with 
the  movement,  fragments  of  tunes  fit  themselves  to  the 
words,  and  play  a  monotonous  and  exasperating  music 
in  the  brain,  till  a  man  has  the  sensation  of  having  a 
hurdy-gurdy  in  his  head,  though  he  may  be  working 
for  his  life,  as  Malipieri  was.  Yet  the  unchanging 
repetition  makes  the  work  easier,  as  a  sailor's  chanty 
helps  at  the  topsail  halliards. 

"  We  must  get  out  before  we  starve,  we  must  get  out 
before  we  starve,"  sang  the  regular  blows  of  the  bar  to 
a  queer  little  tune  which  Malipieri  had  never  heard. 

When  he  stopped  to  clear  out  the  chips,  the  song 
stopped  too,  and  he  thought  of  Sabina  sitting  alone 
in  the  vault,  propped  against  the  Aphrodite ;  and  he 
hoped  that  she  might  be  asleep.  But  when  he  swung 
the  bar  back  into  position  and  heard  it  strike  the 
bricks,  the  tune  and  the  words  came  back  with  the 
pendulum  rhythm ;  and  went  on  and  on,  till  they  were 
almost  maddening,  though  there  no  longer  seemed  to 
be  any  sense  in  them.  They  made  the  time  pass. 

Sabina  heard  the  dull  blows,  too,  though  not  very 
loud.  It  was  a  comfort  to  hear  anything  in  the  total 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  227 

darkness,  and  she  tried  to  amuse  herself  by  counting 
the  strokes  up  to  a  hundred  and  then  checking  the 
hundreds  by  turning  in  one  finger  after  another.  It 
would  be  something  to  tell  him  when  he  came  back. 
She  wondered  whether  there  would  be  a  thousand,  and 
then,  as  she  was  wondering,  she  lost  the  count,  and  by 
way  of  a  change  she  tried  to  reckon  how  many  seconds 
there  were  in  an  hour.  But  she  got  into  trouble  with 
the  ciphers  when  she  tried  to  multiply  sixty  by  sixty  in 
her  head,  and  she  began  counting  the  strokes  again. 
They  always  stopped  for  a  few  seconds  somewhere 
between  thirty  and  forty. 

She  wished  he  would  come  back  soon,  for  she  was 
beginning  to  feel  very  cold  again,  so  cold  that  presently 
she  got  upon  her  feet  and  walked  a  dozen  steps,  feel 
ing  her  way  along  the  great  bronze  statue.  It  was 
better  than  sitting  still.  She  had  heard  of  prisoners 
who  had  kept  themselves  sane  in  a  dark  dungeon  by 
throwing  away  a  few  pins  they  had,  and  finding  them 
again.  It  was  a  famous  prisoner  who  did  that.  It 
was  the  prisoner  of  Quillon  —  no,  "quillon"  had  some 
thing  to  do  with  a  sword  —  no,  it  was  Chillon.  Then 
she  felt  dizzy  again,  and  steadied  herself  against  the 
statue,  and  presently  groped  her  way  back  to  her  seat. 
She  almost  fell,  when  she  sat  down,  but  saved  herself 
and  at  last  succeeded  in  getting  to  her  original  posi 
tion.  It  was  not  that  she  was  faint  from  hunger  yet ; 
her  dizziness  was  probably  the  result  of  cold  and  weari 
ness  and  discomfort,  and  most  of  all,  of  the  unaccus 
tomed  darkness. 


228  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

She  was  ashamed  of  being  so  weak,  when  she  listened 
to  the  steady  strokes,  far  off,  and  thought  of  the 
strength  and  endurance  it  must  need  to  do  what  Mali- 
pieri  seemed  to  be  doing  so  easily.  But  she  was  very 
cold  indeed,  chilled  to  the  bone  and  shivering,  and  she 
could  not  think  of  any  way  of  getting  warm.  She  rose 
again,  and  struck  one  of  the  matches  he  had  given  her, 
and  by  its  feeble  light  she  walked  a  few  seconds  with 
out  feeling  dizzy,  and  then  sat  down  just  as  the  little 
taper  was  going  to  burn  her  fingers. 

A  few  minutes  later  she  heard  footsteps  overhead, 
and  saw  a  faint  light  through  the  hole.  He  was  coin 
ing  at  last,  and  she  smiled  happily  before  she  saw  him. 

He  came  down  and  asked  how  she  was,  and  he  sat  on 
the  Aphrodite  beside  her. 

"  If  I  could  only  get  warm  I  "  she  answered. 

"  Perhaps  you  can  warm  your  hands  a  little  on  the 
sides  of  the  lantern,"  he  said. 

She  tried  that  and  felt  a  momentary  sensation  of 
comfort,  and  asked  him  what  progress  he  was  making. 

44  Very  slow,"  he  replied.  "  I  cannot  hear  the  least 
sound  from  the  other  side  yet.  Masin  is  not  there." 

She  did  not  expect  any  other  answer,  and  said  noth 
ing,  as  she  sat  shivering  beside  him. 

44  You  are  very  brave,"  he  said  presently. 

A  long  pause  followed.  She  had  bent  her  head  low, 
so  that  her  face  almost  touched  her  knees. 

44  Signer  Malipieri  —  "  she  began,  at  last,  in  rather  a 
trembling  tone. 

44  Yes  ?  What  is  it  ?  "  He  bent  down  to  her,  but  she 
did  not  look  up. 


THE   HEART   OF   EOME  229 

"I  —  I  —  hardly  know  how  to  say  it,"  she  faltered. 
"  Shall  you  think  very,  very  badly  of  me  if  I  ask  you 
to  do  something  —  something  that  —  "  She  stopped. 

"  There  is  nothing  in  heaven  or  earth  I  will  not  do 
for  you,"  he  answered.  uAnd  I  shall  certainly  not 
think  anything  very  dreadful."  He  tried  to  speak 
cheerfully. 

"  I  think  I  shall  die  of  the  cold,"  she  said.  "  There 
might  be  a  way —  " 

"  Yes  ?     Anything  !  " 

Then  she  spoke  very  low. 

"  Do  you  think  you  could  just  put  your  arms  round 
me  for  a  minute  or  two  ?  "  she  asked. 

Piteously  cold  though  she  was,  the  blood  rushed  to 
her  face  as  she  uttered  the  words;  but  Malipieri  felt  it 
in  his  throat  and  eyes. 

"  Certainly,"  he  answered,  as  if  she  had  asked  the 
most  natural  thing  in  the  world.  "  Sit  upon  my 
knees,  and  I  will  hold  my  arms  round  you,  till  you  are 
warm." 

He  settled  himself  on  the  marble  limbs  of  the  Aphro 
dite,  and  the  frail  young  girl  seated  herself  on  his 
knees,  and  nestled  to  him  for  warmth,  while  he  held 
her  close  to  him,  covering  her  with  his  arms  as  much 
as  he  could.  They  went  quite  round  her,  one  above 
the  other,  and  she  hid  her  face  against  his  shoulder. 
He  could  feel  her  trembling  with  the  cold  like  a  leaf, 
under  the  coat  he  had  made  her  put  on. 

Suddenly  she  started  a  little,  but  not  as  if  she  wished 
to  go  ;  it  was  more  like  a  sob  than  anything  else. 


230  THE   HEAET   OP   ROME 

"  What  is  the  matter  ? "  he  asked,  steadying  his 
voice  with  difficulty. 

"  I  am  so  ashamed  of  myself  !  "  she  answered,  and 
she  buried  her  face  against  his  shoulder  again. 

"  There  is  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of,"  he  said  gently. 
"  Are  you  a  little  warmer  now  ?  " 

"  Oh,  much,  much !  Let  me  stay  just  a  little 
longer." 

"As  long  as  you  will,"  he  answered,  pressing  her 
to  him  quietly. 

He  wondered  if  she  could  hear  his  heart,  which  was 
beating  like  a  hammer,  and  whether  she  noticed  any 
thing  strange  in  his  voice.  If  she  did,  she  would  not 
understand.  She  was  only  a  child  after  all.  He  told 
himself  that  he  was  old  enough  to  be  her  father,  though 
he  was  not ;  he  tried  not  to  think  of  her  at  all.  But 
that  was  of  no  use.  He  would  have  given  his  body, 
his  freedom,  his  soul  and  the  life  to  come,  to  kiss  her 
as  she  lay  helpless  in  his  arms  ;  he  would  have  given 
anything  the  world  held,  or  heaven,  if  it  had  been  his ; 
anything,  except  his  honour.  But  that  he  would  not 
give.  His  heart  might  beat  itself  to  pieces,  his  brain 
might  whirl,  the  little  fires  might  flash  furiously  in  his 
closed  eyes,  his  throat  might  be  as  parched  as  the  rich 
man's  in  hell  —  she  had  trusted  herself  to  him  like  a 
child,  in  sheer  despair  and  misery,  and  safe  as  a  child 
she  should  lie  on  his  breast.  She  should  die  there,  if 
they  were  to  die. 

"  I  am  warm  now,"  she  said  at  last,  "  really  quite 
warm  again,  if  you  want  to  go  back." 


THE   HEART   OF   BOMB  231 

He  did  not  wonder.  He  felt  as  if  he  were  on  fire 
from  his  head  to  his  feet.  At  her  words  he  relaxed 
his  arms  at  once,  and  she  stood  up. 

"  You  are  so  good  to  me,"  she  said,  with  an  impulse 
of  gratitude  for  safety  which  she  herself  did  not  under 
stand.  "  What  makes  you  so  good  to  me  ?  " 

He  shook  his  head,  as  if  he  could  not  answer  then, 
and  smiled  a  little  sadly. 

"  Now  that  you  are  warm,  I  must  not  lose  time,"  he 
said,  a  moment  later,  taking  up  his  lantern. 

She  sat  down  in  her  old  place,  and  gathered  her  skirt 
to  her  feet  and  watched  him  as  he  climbed  out  and  the 
last  rays  of  light  disappeared.  Then  the  pounding  at 
the  wall  began  again,  far  off,  and  she  tried  to  count  the 
strokes,  as  she  had  done  before  ;  but  she  wished  him 
back,  and  whether  she  felt  cold  or  not,  she  wished  her 
self  again  quietly  folded  in  his  arms,  and  though  she 
was  alone  and  it  was  quite  dark  she  blushed  at  the 
thought.  It  seemed  to  her  that  the  blows  were  struck 
in  quicker  succession  now  than  before.  Was  he  willing 
to  tire  himself  out  a  little  sooner,  so  as  to  earn  the 
right  to  come  back  to  her  ? 

That  was  not  it.  He  was  growing  desperate,  and 
could  not  control  the  speed  of  his  hands  so  per 
fectly  as  before.  The  night  was  advancing,  he  knew, 
though  he  had  not  looked  at  the  watch,  which  was  still 
in  Sabina's  glove.  It  was  growing  late,  and  he  could 
distinguish  no  sound  but  that  of  the  blows  he  struck 
at  the  bricks  and  the  steady  roar  of  the  water.  The 
conviction  grew  on  him  that  Masin  was  drowned,  and 


232  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

perhaps  old  Sassi  too,  and  that  their  bodies  lay  at  the 
bottom  of  the  outer  chamber,  between  the  well  and  the 
wall  of  the  cellar.  If  Masin  had  been  able  to  get  into 
the  well,  before  the  water  was  too  high,  he  would  have 
risen  with  it,  for  he  was  a  good  swimmer. 

So  was  Malipieri,  and  more  than  once  he  thought  of 
making  an  attempt  to  reach  the  widened  slit  in  the  wall 
by  diving.  That  he  could  find  the  opening  he  was 
sure,  but  he  was  almost  equally  sure  that  he  could 
never  get  through  it  alive  and  up  to  the  surface  on  the 
other  side.  If  he  were  drowned  too,  Sabina  would  be 
left  to  die  alone,  or  perhaps  to  go  mad  with  horror 
before  she  was  found.  He  had  heard  of  such  things. 

It  was  no  wonder  that  he  unconsciously  struck  faster 
as  he  worked,  and  at  first  he  felt  himself  stronger  than 
before,  as  men  do  when  they  are  almost  despairing. 
The  sweat  stood  out  on  his  forehead,  and  his  hands 
tingled,  when  he  drew  back  the  iron  to  clear  away  the 
chips.  He  worked  harder  and  harder. 

The  queer  little  tune  did  not  ring  in  his  head  now, 
for  he  could  think  of  nothing  but  Sabina  and  of  what 
was  to  become  of  her,  even  if  he  succeeded  in  saving 
her  life.  It  was  almost  impossible  that  such  a  strange 
adventure  should  remain  a  secret,  and,  being  once 
known,  the  injury  to  the  girl  might  be  irreparable. 
He  hated  himself  for  having  brought  her  to  the  place. 
Yet,  as  he  thought  it  over,  he  knew  that  he  would  have 
done  it  again. 

It  had  seemed  perfectly  safe.  Any  one  could  have 
seen  that  the  water  had  not  risen  in  the  well  for  many 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  233 

years.  Day  after  day,  for  a  long  time,  he  and  Masin 
had  worked  in  the  vaults  in  perfect  safety.  The  way 
to  the  statues  had  been  made  so  easy  that  only  a  timid 
old  man  like  Sassi  could  have  found  it  impassable. 
There  had  been  absolutely  no  cause  to  fear  that  after 
fifty  or  sixty  years  the  course  of  the  water  should  be 
affected,  and  the  chances  against  such  an  accident 
happening  during  that  single  hour  of  Sabina's  visit 
were  as  many  millions  to  one.  His  motive  in  bringing 
her  had  been  quixotic,  no  doubt,  but  good  and  just,  and 
so  far  as  Sabina's  reputation  was  concerned,  Sassi's  pres 
ence  had  constituted  a  sufficient  social  protection. 

He  hammered  away  at  the  bricks  furiously,  and  the 
cavity  grew  deeper  and  wider.  Surely  he  had  made  a 
mistake  at  first  in  wishing  to  husband  his  strength  too 
carefully.  If  he  had  worked  from  the  beginning  as  he 
was  working  now,  he  would  have  made  the  breach  by 
this  time. 

Unless  that  were  impossible  ;  unless,  after  all,  he 
had  struck  the  end  of  a  cross  wall  and  was  working 
through  the  length  of  it  instead  of  through  its  thick 
ness.  The  fear  of  such  a  misfortune  took  possession 
of  him,  and  he  laid  down  his  crowbar  to  examine  the 
the  wall  carefully.  There  was  one  way  of  finding  out 
the  truth,  if  he  could  only  get  light  enough  ;  no  mason 
that  ever  lived  would  lay  his  bricks  in  any  way  except 
lengthwise  along  each  course.  If  he  had  struck  into  a 
cross  wall,  he  must  be  demolishing  the  bricks  from 
their  ends  instead  of  across  them,  and  he  could  find 
out  which  way  they  lay  at  the  end  of  the  cavity,  if  he 


234  THE   HEART   OF  HOME 

could  make  the  light  of  the  lantern  shine  in  as  far  as 
that.  The  depth  was  more  than  five  feet  now,  and  his 
experience  told  him  that  even  in  the  construction  of  a 
mediaeval  palace  the  walls  above  the  level  of  the 
ground  were  very  rarely  as  thick  as  that,  when  built 
of  good  brick  and  cement  like  this  one. 

When  he  took  up  his  lantern,  he  was  amazed  at  what 
he  had  done  in  less  than  four  hours  ;  if  he  had  been 
told  that  an  ordinary  man  had  accomplished  anything 
approaching  to  it  in  that  time,  he  would  have  been 
incredulous.  He  had  hardly  realized  that  he  had  made 
a  hole  big  enough  for  him  to  work  in,  kneeling  on  one 
knee,  and  bracing  himself  with  the  other  foot. 

But  the  end  was  narrow,  of  course,  and  when  he 
held  the  light  before  it,  he  could  not  see  past  the  body 
of  the  lantern.  He  opened  the  latter,  took  out  the 
little  oil  lamp  carefully  and  thrust  it  into  the  hole. 
He  could  see  now,  as  he  carefully  examined  the  bricks, 
and  he  was  easily  convinced  that  he  had  not  entered  a 
cross  wall.  Nevertheless,  when  he  had  been  working 
with  the  bar,  he  had  not  detected  any  change  in  the 
sound,  as  he  thought  he  must  have  done,  if  he  had 
been  near  the  further  side.  Was  the  wall  ten  feet 
thick  ?  He  looked  again.  It  was  not  a  vaulting,  that 
was  clear  ;  and  it  could  not  be  anything  but  a  wall. 
There  was  some  comfort  in  that.  He  drew  back  a 
little,  put  the  lamp  into  the  lantern  again  and  got  out 
backwards.  The  passage  was  bright  ;  he  looked  up 
quickly  and  started. 

Sabina  was   standing  beside  him,  holding  the  large 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  235 

lamp.  Her  big  hat  had  fallen  back  and  her  hair  made 
a  fair  cloud  between  it  and  her  white  face. 

"I  thought  something  had  happened  to  you,"  she 
said,  "so  I  brought  the  lamp.  You  stopped  working 
for  such  a  long  time,"  she  explained,  "  I  thought  you 
must  have  hurt  yourself,  or  fainted." 

"No,"  answered  Malipieri.  "There  is  nothing  the 
matter  with  me.  I  was  looking  at  the  bricks." 

"  You  must  need  rest,  for  it  is  past  ten  o'clock.  I 
looked  at  the  watch." 

"  I  will  rest  when  I  get  through  the  wall.  There  is 
no  time  to  be  lost.  Are  you  very  hungry  ?  " 

"No.  I  am  a  little  thirsty."  She  looked  at  the 
black  water,  pouring  down  the  overflow  shaft. 

"  That  water  is  not  good  to  drink,"  said  Malipieri, 
thinking  of  what  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  well.  "  We 
had  better  not  drink  it  unless  we  are  absolutely  forced 
to.  I  hope  to  get  you  out  in  two  hours." 

He  stood  leaning  on  his  crowbar,  his  dark  hair 
covered  with  dust,  his  white  shirt  damp  and  clinging 
to  him,  and  all  stained  from  rubbing  against  the  broken 
masonry. 

"  It  would  be  better  to  rest  for  a  few  minutes,"  she 
said,  not  moving. 

He  knew  she  was  right,  but  he  went  with  her  reluc 
tantly,  and  presently  he  was  sitting  beside  her  on  the 
marble  limbs  of  the  Aphrodite.  She  turned  her  face 
to  him  a  little  shyly,  and  then  looked  away  again. 

"  Were  ever  two  human  beings  in  such  a  situation 
before ! " 


236  THE   HEAKT   OF   HOME 

"Everything  has  happened  before/'  Malipieri  an 
swered.  "There  is  nothing  new." 

"Does  it  hurt  very  much  to  die  of  starvation?" 
Sabina  asked  after  a  little  pause. 

"Not  if  one  has  plenty  of  water.  It  is  thirst  that 
drives  people  mad.  Hunger  makes  one  weak,  that  is 
all." 

"And  cold,  I  am  sure." 

"Very  cold." 

They  were  both  silent.  She  looked  steadily  at  the 
gleaming  bronze  statue  before  her,  and  Malipieri  looked 
down  at  his  hands. 

"  How  long  does  it  take  to  starve  to  death  ? "  she 
asked  at  last. 

"  Strong  men  may  live  two  or  three  weeks  if  they 
have  water." 

"  I  should  not  live  many  days,"  Sabina  said  thought 
fully.  "  It  would  be  awful  for  you  to  be  living  on 
here,  with  me  lying  dead." 

"Horrible.  Do  not  think  about  it.  We  shall  get 
out  before  morning." 

"I  am  afraid  not,"  she  said  quietly.  "I  am  afraid 
we  are  going  to  die  here." 

"  Not  if  I  can  help  it,"  answered  Malipieri. 

"No.  Of  course  not.  I  know  you  will  do  every 
thing  possible,  and  I  am  sure  that  if  you  could  save  me 
by  losing  your  life,  you  would.  Yes.  But  if  you  can 
not  break  through  the  wall,  there  is  nothing  to  be 
done." 

"  The  water  may  go  down  to-morrow.     It  is  almost 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  237 

sure  to  go  down  before  long.  Then  we  can  get  out  by 
the  way  we  came  in." 

"  It  will  not  go  down.     I  am  sure  it  will  not." 

"  It  is  too  soon  to  lose  courage,"  Malipieri  said. 

"  I  am  not  frightened.  It  will  not  be  hard  to  die,  if 
it  does  not  hurt.  It  will  be  much  harder  for  you,  be 
cause  you  are  so  strong.  You  will  live  a  long  time." 

"Not  unless  I  can  save  you,"  he  answered,  rising. 
"  I  am  going  back  to  work.  It  will  be  time  enough  to 
talk  about  death  when  my  strength  is  all  gone." 

He  spoke  almost  roughly,  partly  because  for  one  mo 
ment  she  had  made  him  feel  a  sort  of  sudden  dread  that 
she  might  be  right,  partly  to  make  her  think  that  he 
thought  the  supposition  sheer  nonsense. 

"Are  you  angry?  "  she  asked,  like  a  child. 

"  No !  "  He  made  an  effort  and  laughed  almost 
cheerfully.  "But  you  had  better  think  about  what 
you  should  like  for  supper  in  two  or  three  hours  I  It 
is  hardly  worth  while  to  put  out  that  lamp,"  he  added. 
"  It  will  burn  nearly  twelve  hours,  for  it  is  big,  and  it 
was  quite  full.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  heat  in  it,  too." 

He  went  away  again.  But  when  he  was  gone,  she 
drew  the  lamp  over  to  her  without  leaving  her  seat,  and 
put  it  out.  She  was  very  tired  and  a  little  faint,  and 
by  and  by  the  distant  sound  of  the  crowbar  brought 
back  the  drowsiness  she  had  felt  before,  and  leaning 
her  head  against  the  Aphrodite's  curving  waist,  she 
lost  consciousness. 

He  worked  a  good  hour  or  more  without  result,  came 
down  to  her,  and  found  her  in  a  deep  sleep.  As  he 


238  THE   HEAKT   OF   ROME 

noiselessly  left  her,  he  wondered  how  many  men  could 
have  slept  peacefully  in  such  a  case  as  hers. 

Once  more  he  took  the  heavy  bar,  and  toiled  on,  but 
he  felt  that  his  strength  was  failing  fast  for  want  of 
food.  He  had  eaten  nothing  since  midday,  and  had  not 
even  drunk  water,  and  in  six  hours  he  had  done  as 
much  hard  work  as  two  ordinary  workmen  could  have 
accomplished  in  a  day.  With  a  certain  amount  of  rest, 
he  could  still  go  on,  but  a  quarter  of  an  hour  would  no 
longer  be  enough.  He  was  very  thirsty,  too,  but  though 
he  might  have  drunk  his  fill  from  the  hollow  of  his 
hand,  he  could  not  yet  bring  himself  to  taste  the  water. 
He  was  afraid  that  he  might  be  driven  to  it  before  long, 
but  he  would  resist  as  long  as  he  could. 

Every  stroke  was  an  effort  now,  as  he  struggled  on 
blindly,  not  only  against  the  material  obstacle,  but 
against  the  growing  terror  that  was  taking  possession 
of  him,  the  hideous  probability  of  having  worked  in 
vain  after  all,  and  the  still  worse  certainty  of  what  the 
end  must  be  if  he  really  failed. 

Effort  after  effort,  stroke  after  stroke,  though  each 
seemed  impossible  after  the  last.  He  could  not  fail,  and 
let  that  poor  girl  die,  unless  he  could  die  first,  of  sheer 
exhaustion. 

If  he  were  to  stop  now,  it  might  be  hours  before  he 
could  go  on  again,  and  then  he  would  be  already  weak 
ened  by  hunger.  There  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to 
keep  at  it,  to  strike  and  strike,  with  such  half -frantic 
energy  as  was  left  in  him.  Every  bone  and  sinew 
ached,  and  his  breath  came  short,  while  the  sweat  ran 


THE   HEAKT   OF   ROME  239 

down  into  his  short  beard,  and  fell  in  rain  on  his  dusty 
hands. 

But  do  what  he  would,  the  blows  followed  each  other 
in  slower  succession.  He  could  not  strike  twenty 
more,  not  ten,  not  five  perhaps  ;  he  would  not  count 
them  ;  he  would  cheat  himself  into  doing  what  could 
not  be  done  ;  he  would  count  backwards  and  for 
wards,  one,  two,  three,  three,  two,  one,  one,  two  — 

And  then,  all  at  once,  the  tired  sinews  were  braced 
like  steel,  and  his  back  straightened,  and  his  breath 
carne  full  and  clear.  The  blow  had  rung  hollow. 

He  could  have  yelled  as  he  sent  the  great  bar  flying 
against  the  bricks  again  and  again,  far  in  the  shadow, 
and  the  echo  rang  back,  louder  and  louder,  every  time. 

The  bar  ran  through  and  the  end  he  held  shot  from 
his  hands,  as  the  resistance  failed  at  last,  and  half  the 
iron  went  out  on  the  other  side.  He  drew  it  back 
quickly  and  looked  to  see  if  there  were  any  light,  but 
there  was  none.  He  did  not  care,  for  the  rest  would 
be  child's  play  compared  with  what  he  had  done,  and 
easier  than  play  now  that  he  had  the  certainty  of  safety. 

The  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to  tell  Sabina  that 
the  danger  was  past.  He  crept  back  with  his  light 
and  stood  upright.  It  hurt  him  to  straighten  him 
self,  and  he  now  knew  how  tremendous  the  labour 
had  been  ;  the  last  furious  minutes  had  been  like  the 
delirium  of  a  fever.  But  he  was  tough  and  used  to 
every  sort  of  fatigue,  and  hope  had  come  back  ;  he 
forgot  how  thirsty  he  had  been,  and  did  not  even 
glance  behind  him  at  the  water. 


240  THE   HEART   OF    ROME 

Sabina  was  still  asleep.  He  stood  before  her,  and 
hesitated,  for  it  seemed  cruel  to  wake  her,  even  to 
tell  her  the  good  news.  He  would  go  back  and  widen 
the  breach,  and  when  there  was  room  to  get  out,  he 
could  come  and  fetch  her.  She  had  put  out  the  lamp. 
He  lighted  it  again  quietly,  and  was  going  to  place  it 
where  it  could  not  shine  in  her  eyes  and  perhaps  wake 
her,  when  he  paused  to  look  at  her  face. 

It  was  very  still,  and  deadly  pale,  and  her  lips  were 
blue.  He  could  not  she  that  she  was  breathing,  for 
his  coat  hung  loosely  over  her  slender  figure.  She 
looked  almost  dead.  Her  gloved  hands  lay  with  the 
palms  upwards,  the  one  in  her  lap,  the  other  on  the 
ground  beside  her.  He  touched  that  one  gently  with 
the  back  of  his  own,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  it  was 
very  cold,  through  the  glove. 

He  touched  her  cheek  in  the  same  way,  and  it  felt 
like  ice.  It  would  surely  be  better  to  wake  her,  and 
make  her  move  about  a  little.  He  spoke  to  her,  at 
first  softly,  and  then  quite  loud,  but  she  made  no  sign. 
Perhaps  she  was  not  asleep,  but  had  fainted  from  weari 
ness  and  cold  ;  he  knelt  beside  her,  and  took  her  hand 
in  both  his  own,  chafing  it  between  them,  but  still  she 
gave  no  sign.  It  was  certainly  a  fainting  fit,  and  he 
knew  that  if  a  woman  was  pale  when  she  fainted,  she 
should  be  laid  down  at  full  length,  to  make  the  blood 
return  to  her  head.  Kneeling  beside  her,  he  lifted  her 
carefully  and  placed  her  on  her  back  beside  the  Aphro 
dite,  smoothing  out  his  waistcoat  under  her  head,  not  for 
a  pillow  but  for  a  little  protection  from  the  cold  ground. 


THE  HEART   OF   KOME  241 

Then  he  hesitated,  and  remained  some  time  kneeling 
beside  her.  She  needed  warmth  more  than  anything 
else  ;  he  knew  that,  and  he  knew  that  the  best  way  to 
warm  her  a  little  was  to  hold  her  in  his  arms.  Yet  he 
would  try  something  else  first. 

He  bent  over  her  and  undoing  one  of  the  buttons 
of  the  coat,  he  breathed  into  it  again  and  again,  long, 
warm  breaths.  He  did  this  for  a  long  time,  and  then 
looked  at  her  face,  but  it  had  not  changed.  He  felt 
the  ground  with  his  hand,  and  it  was  cold  ;  as  long  as 
she  lay  there,  she  could  never  get  warm. 

He  lifted  her  again,  still  quite  unconscious,  and  sat 
with  her  in  his  arms,  as  he  had  done  before,  laying  her 
head  against  the  hollow  of  his  shoulder,  and  pressing 
her  gently,  trying  to  instil  into  her  some  of  his  own 
strong  life. 

At  last  she  gave  a  little  sigh  and  moved  her  head, 
nestling  herself  to  him,  but  it  was  long  before  she 
spoke.  He  felt  the  consciousness  coming  back  in  her, 
and  the  inclination  to  move,  rather  than  any  real 
motion  in  her  delicate  frame ;  the  more  perceptible 
breathing,  and  then  the  little  sigh  came  again,  and  at 
last  the  words. 

"  I  thought  we  were  dead,"  she  said,  so  low  that  he 
could  barely  hear. 

"  No,  you  fainted,"  he  answered.  "  We  are  safe.  I 
have  got  the  bar  through  the  wall." 

She  turned  up  her  face  feebly,  without  lifting  her 
head. 

"  Really  ?     Have  you  done  it  ?  " 


242  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"Yes.  In  another  hour,  or  a  little  more,  the  hole 
will  be  wide  enough  for  us  to  get  through  it." 

She  hid  her  face  again,  and  breathed  quietly. 

"You  do  not  seem  glad,"  he  said. 

"  It  seemed  so  easy  to  die  like  this,"  she  answered. 

But  presently  she  moved  in  his  arms,  and  looked  up 
again,  and  smiled,  though  she  did  not  try  to  speak 
again.  He  himself,  almost  worn  out  by  what  he  had 
done,  was  glad  to  sit  still  for  a  while.  His  blood  was 
not  racing  through  him  now,  his  head  was  not  on  fire. 
It  seemed  quite  natural  that  he  should  be  sitting  there, 
holding  her  close  to  him  and  warming  her  back  to  life 
with  his  own  warmth. 

It  was  a  strange  sensation,  he  thought  afterwards, 
when  many  other  things  had  happened  which  were  not 
long  in  following  upon  the  events  of  that  night.  He 
could  not  quite  believe  that  he  was  almost  stupid  with 
extreme  fatigue,  and  yet  he  remembered  that  it  had 
been  more  like  a  calm  dream  than  anything  else,  a 
dream  of  peace  and  rest.  At  the  time,  it  all  seemed 
natural,  as  the  strangest  things  do  when  one  has  been 
face  to  face  with  death  for  a  few  hours,  and  when  one 
is  so  tired  that  one  can  hardly  think  at  all. 


CHAPTER   XV 

THERE  was  less  consternation  in  the  Volterra  house 
hold  than  might  have  been  expected  when  Sabina  did 
not  return  before  bedtime.  The  servants  knew  that  she 
had  gone  out  with  an  old  gentleman,  a  certain  Signor 
Sassi,  at  about  five  o'clock,  but  until  Volterra  came 
in,  the  Baroness  could  not  find  out  who  Sassi  was,  and 
she  insisted  on  searching  every  corner  of  the  house,  as 
if  she  were  in  quest  of  his  biography,  for  the  servants 
assured  her  that  Sabina  was  still  out,  and  they  certainly 
knew.  She  carefully  examined  Sabina's  room  too,  look 
ing  for  a  note,  a  line  of  writing,  anything  to  "explain  the 
girl's  unexpected  absence. 

She  could  find  nothing  except  the  short  letter  from 
Sabina's  mother  to  which  reference  has  been  made,  and 
she  read  it  over  several  times.  Sabina  received  no  let 
ters,  and  had  been  living  in  something  like  total  isolation. 
The  Baroness  had  reached  a  certain  degree  of  intimacy 
with  her  beloved  aristocracy ;  but  though  she  occasion 
ally  dropped  in  upon  it,  and  was  fairly  well  received,  it 
rarely,  if  ever,  dropped  in  upon  her.  It  showed  itself 
quite  willing,  however,  to  accept  a  formal  invitation  to 
a  good  dinner  at  her  house. 

She  telephoned  to  the  Senate  and  to  a  club,  but  Vol 
terra  could  not  be  found.  Then  she  went  to  dress,  giv- 

243 


244  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

ing  orders  that  Sabina  was  to  be  sent  to  her  the  moment 
she  came  in.  She  was  very  angry,  and  her  sallow  face 
was  drawn  into  severe  angles  ;  she  scolded  her  maid  for 
everything,  and  rustled  whenever  she  moved. 

At  last  the  Baron  came  home,  and  she  learned  who 
Sassi  was.  Volterra  was  very  much  surprised,  but  said 
that  Sassi  must  have  come  for  Sabina  in  connection  with 
some  urgent  family  matter.  Perhaps  some  one  of  her 
family  had  died  suddenly,  or  was  dying.  It  was  very 
thoughtless  of  Sabina  not  to  leave  a  word  of  explana 
tion,  but  Sassi  was  an  eminently  respectable  person,  and 
she  was  quite  safe  with  him. 

The  Baron  ate  his  dinner,  and  repeated  the  substance 
of  this  to  his  wife  before  the  servants,  whose  good  opin 
ion  they  valued.  Probably  Donna  Clementina,  the  nun, 
was  very  ill,  and  Sabina  was  at  the  convent.  No,  Sabina 
did  not  love  her  sister,  of  course ;  but  one  always  went 
to  see  one's  relations  when  they  were  dying,  in  order  to 
forgive  them  their  disagreeable  conduct;  all  Romans 
did  that,  said  the  Baroness,  and  it  was  very  proper. 
By  and  by  a  note  could  be  sent  to  the  convent,  or  the 
carriage  could  go  there  to  bring  Sabina  back.  But  the 
Baron  did  not  order  the  carriage,  and  became  very 
thoughtful  over  his  coffee  and  his  Havana.  Sabina 
had  been  gone  more  than  four  hours,  and  that  was  cer 
tainly  a  longer  time  than  could  be  necessary  for  visit 
ing  a  dying  relative.  He  said  so. 

"  Perhaps,"  suggested  his  wife,  "  it  is  the  Prince  who 
is  ill,  and  Signer  Sassi  has  taken  Sabina  to  the  country 
to  see  her  brother." 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  245 

"  No,"  answered  the  Baron  after  a  moment's  thought. 
"  That  family  is  eccentric,  but  the  girl  would  not  have 
gone  to  the  country  without  a  bag." 

"  There  is  something  in  that,"  answered  the  Baroness, 
and  they  relapsed  into  silence. 

Yet  she  was  not  satisfied,  for,  as  her  husband  said, 
the  Conti  were  all  eccentric.  Nevertheless,  Sabina 
would  at  least  have  telegraphed,  or  sent  a  line  from  the 
station,  or  Sassi  would  have  done  it  for  her,  for  he  was 
a  man  of  business. 

After  a  long  time,  the  Baroness  suggested  that  if  her 
husband  knew  Sassi's  address,  some  one  should  be  sent 
to  his  house  to  find  out  if  he  had  gone  out  of  town. 

"  I  have  not  the  least  idea  where  he  lives,"  the  Baron 
said.  "  As  long  as  I  had  any  business  with  him,  I 
addressed  him  at  the  palace." 

"  The  porter  may  know,"  observed  the  Baroness. 

<:The  porter  is  an  idiot,"  retorted  the  Baron,  puffing 
at  his  cigar. 

His  wife  knew  what  that  meant,  and  did  not  enquire 
why  an  idiot  was  left  in  charge  of  the  palace.  Vol terra 
did  not  intend  to  take  that  way  of  making  enquiries 
about  Sabina,  if  he  made  any  at  all,  and  the  Baroness 
knew  that  when  he  did  not  mean  to  do  a  thing,  the 
obstinacy  of  a  Calabrian  mule  was  docility  compared 
with  his  dogged  opposition.  Moreover,  she  would 
not  have  dared  to  do  it  unknown  to  him.  There  was 
some  good  reason  why  he  did  not  intend  to  look  for 
Sassi. 

"  Besides,"  he  condescended  to  say  after  a  long  time, 


246  THE   HEART    OF   HOME 

"she  is  quite  safe  with  that  old  man,  wherever  they 
are." 

"  Society  might  not  think  so,  my  dear,"  answered  the 
Baroness  in  mild  protest. 

"  Society  had  better  mind  its  business,  and  let  us  take 
care  of  ours." 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  yes,  of  course  !  " 

She  did  not  agree  with  him  at  all.  Her  ideal  of  a 
happy  life  was  quite  different,  for  she  was  very  much 
pleased  when  society  took  a  lively  interest  in  her  doings, 
and  nothing  interested  her  more  than  the  doings  of 
society.  She  presently  ventured  to  argue  the  case. 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  she  repeated,  by  way  of  preliminary 
conciliation.  "  I  was  only  wondering  what  people  will 
think,  if  anything  happens  to  the  girl  while  she  is  under 
our  charge." 

"  What  can  happen  to  her?  " 

"There  might  be  some  talk  about  her  going  ouv  in 
this  way.  The  servants  know  it,  you  see,  and  she  is 
evidently  not  coming  home  this  evening.  They  know 
that  she  went  out  without  leaving  any  message,  and 
they  must  think  it  strange." 

"I  agree  with  you." 

"Well,  then,  there  will  be  some  story  about  her. 
Do  you  see  what  I  mean  ?  " 

"  Perfectly.  But  that  will  not  affect  us  in  the  least. 
Every  one  knows  what  strange  people  the  Conti  are, 
and  everybody  knows  that  we  are  perfectly  respectable. 
If  there  is  a  word  said  about  the  girl's  character,  you 
will  put  her  into  the  carriage,  my  dear,  and  deposit  her 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  247 

at  the  convent  under  the  charge  of  her  sister.  Every 
body  will  say  that  you  have  done  right,  and  the  matter 
will  be  settled." 

44  You  would  not  really  send  her  to  the  convent !  " 

"  I  will  certainly  not  let  her  live  under  my  roof,  if 
she  stays  out  all  night  without  giving  a  satisfactory 
account  of  herself." 

"  But  her  mother  —  " 

"Her  mother  is  no  better  than  she  should  be," 
observed  the  Baron  virtuously,  by  way  of  answer. 

The  Baroness  was  very  much  disturbed.  She  had 
been  delighted  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  sort  of  provi 
dence  to  the  distressed  great,  and  had  looked  forward 
to  the  social  importance  of  being  regarded  as  a  second 
mother  to  Donna  Sabina  Conti.  She  had  hoped  to 
make  a  good  match  for  her,  and  to  shine  at  the  wed 
ding  ;  she  had  dreamed  of  marrying  the  girl  to 
Malipieri,  who  was  such  a  fine  fellow,  and  would  be 
so  rich  some  day  that  he  might  be  trapped  into  taking 
a  wife  without  a  dowry. 

These  castles  in  the  air  were  all  knocked  to  pieces 
by  the  Baron's  evident  determination  to  get  rid  of 
Sabina. 

44 1  thought  you  liked  the  girl,"  said  the  Baroness  in 
a  tone  of  disappointment. 

Volterra  stuck  out  both  his  feet  and  crossed  his 
hands  on  his  stomach,  after  his  manner,  smoking  vigor 
ously.  Then,  with  his  cigar  in  one  corner  of  his 
mouth,  he  laughed  out  of  the  other,  and  assumed  a 
playful  expression. 


248  THE   HEART   OP   KOME 

"I  do  not  like  anybody  but  you,  my  darling,"  he 
said,  looking  at  the  ceiling.  "  Nobody  in  the  whole 
wide  world  !  You  are  the  deposited  security.  All 
the  other  people  are  the  floating  circulation." 

He  seemed  pleased  with  this  extraordinary  view  of 
mankind,  and  the  Baroness  smiled  at  her  faithful  hus 
band.  She  rarely  understood  what  he  was  doing,  and 
hardly  ever  guessed  what  he  meant  to  do,  but  she 
was  absolutely  certain  of  his  conjugal  fidelity,  and  he 
gave  her  everything  she  wanted. 

"The  other  people,"  he  said,  "are  just  notes,  and 
nothing  else.  When  a  note  is  damaged  or  worn  out, 
you  can  always  get  a  new  one  at  the  bank,  in  exchange 
for  it.  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear.     That  is  very  clever." 

"  It  is  very  true,"  said  the  Baron.  "  The  Conti 
family  consists  chiefly  of  damaged  notes." 

He  had  not  moved  his  cigar  from  the  corner  of  his 
mouth  to  speak. 

"Yes,  my  dear,"  answered  the  Baroness  meekly, 
and  when  she  thought  of  her  last  interview  with  the 
dowager  Princess,  she  was  obliged  to  admit  the  fitness 
of  the  simile. 

"  The  only  one  of  them  at  all  fit  to  remain  in  circu 
lation,"  he  continued,  "  was  this  girl.  If  she  stays  out 
all  night  she  will  be  distinctly  damaged,  too.  Then 
you  will  have  to  pass  her  off  to  some  one  else,  as  one 
does,  you  know,  when  a  note  is  doubtful." 

"The  cook  can  generally  change  them,"  observed 
the  Baroness  irrelevantly. 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  249 

"  I  do  not  think  she  is  coming  home,"  said  the  Baron, 
much  more  to  the  point. 

"  I  hope  she  will  !  After  all,  if  she  does  not,  you  your 
self  say  that  she  is  quite  safe  with  this  Signor  Sassi  —  " 

"  I  did  not  say  that  she  would  be  safe  from  gossip 
afterwards,  did  I  ?  " 

It  was  perfectly  clear  by  this  time  that  he  wished 
Sabina  to  leave  the  house  as  soon  as  possible,  and  that 
he  would  take  the  first  opportunity  of  obliging  her  to 
do  so.  Even  if  his  wife  had  dared  to  interfere,  it 
would  have  been  quite  useless,  for  she  knew  him  to 
be  capable  of  hinting  to  the  girl  herself  that  she  was 
no  longer  welcome.  Sabina  was  very  proud,  and  she 
would  not  stay  under  the  roof  an  hour  after  that. 

"  I  did  not  suggest  that  you  should  bring  her  here," 
Volterra  continued  presently.  "  Please  remember  that. 
I  simply  did  not  object  to  her  coming.  That  was  all  the 
share  I  had  in  it.  In  any  case  I  should  have  wished 
her  to  leave  us  before  we  go  away  for  the  summer." 

"  I  had  not  understood  that,"  answered  the  Baroness 
resignedly.  "  I  had  hoped  that  she  might  come  with  us. " 

"She  has  settled  the  matter  for  herself,  my  dear. 
After  this  extraordinary  performance,  I  must  really 
decline  to  be  responsible  for  her  any  longer." 

It  was  characteristic  of  his  methods  that  when  he 
had  begun  to  talk  over  the  matter  before  dinner,  she 
had  not  been  able  to  guess  at  all  how  he  would  ulti 
mately  look  at  it,  and  that  he  only  let  her  know  his 
real  intention  by  degrees.  Possibly,  he  had  only 
wished  to  gain  time  to  think  it  over.  She  did  not 


250  THE   HEART   OP   ROME 

know  that  he  had  asked  Malipieri  to  leave  the  Palazzo 
Conti,  and  if  she  had,  it  might  not  have  occurred  to 
her  that  there  was  any  connection  between  that  and 
his  desire  to  get  rid  of  Sabina.  His  ways  were  com 
plicated,  when  they  were  not  unpleasantly  direct,  not 
to  say  brutal. 

But  the  Baroness  was  much  more  human,  and  had 
grown  fond  of  the  girl,  largely  because  she  had  no 
daughter  of  her  own,  and  had  always  longed  to  have 
one.  Ambitious  women,  if  they  have  the  motherly 
instinct,  prefer  daughters  to  sons.  One  cannot  easily 
tell  what  a  boy  may  do  when  he  grows  up,  but  a  girl 
can  be  made  to  do  almost  anything  by  her  own  mother, 
or  to  marry  almost  any  one.  The  Baroness's  regret  for 
losing  Sabina  took  the  form  of  confiding  to  her  hus 
band  what  she  had  hoped  to  do  for  the  girl. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  she  said,  "  but  if  you  wish  her 
to  go,  she  must  leave  us.  Of  late,  I  had  been  think 
ing  that  we  might  perhaps  marry  her  to  that  clever 
Malipieri." 

The  Baron  smiled  thoughtfully,  took  his  cigar  from 
his  lips  at  last,  and  looked  at  his  wife. 

"To  Malipieri?"  he  asked,  as  if  not  quite  under 
standing  the  suggestion. 

"Yes,  I  am  sure  he  would  make  her  a  very  good 
husband.  He  evidently  admires  her,  too." 

"  Possibly.  I  never  thought  of  it.  But  she  has  no 
dowry.  That  is  an  objection." 

"  He  will  be  rich  some  day.     Is  he  poor  now  ?  " 

"  No.     Not  at  all." 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  251 

"  And  she  certainly  likes  him  very  much.  It  would 
be  a  very  good  match  for  her." 

"  Admirable.  But  I  do  not  think  we  need  trouble 
ourselves  with  such  speculations,  since  she  is  going  to 
leave  us  so  soon." 

"  I  shall  always  take  a  friendly  interest  in  her," 
said  the  Baroness,  "  wherever  she  may  be." 

"  Very  well,  my  dear,"  Volterra  answered,  dropping 
the  end  of  his  cigar  and  preparing  to  rise.  "  That  will 
be  very  charitable  of  you.  But  your  friendly  interest 
can  never  marry  her  to  Malipieri." 

"  Perhaps  not.  But  it  might  have  been  done,  if  she 
had  not  been  so  foolish." 

"  No,"  said  the  Baron,  getting  to  his  feet,  "  it  never 
could  have  been  done." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  his  wife,  surprised  by  the  deci 
sion  of  his  tone. 

"  Because  there  is  a  very  good  reason  why  Malipieri 
cannot  marry  her,  my  dear." 

"  A  good  reason  ?  " 

"  A  very  good  reason.  My  dear,  I  am  sleepy.  I  am 
going  to  bed." 

Volterra  rang  the  bell  by  the  fireplace,  and  a  man 
appeared  almost  instantly. 

"  You  may  put  out  the  lights,"  he  said.  "  We  are 
going  to  bed." 

"  Shall  any  one  sit  up,  in  case  Donna  Sabina  should 
come  in,  Excellency  ?  "  asked  the  servant. 

"No."' 

He  went  towards  the  door,  and  his  wife  followed 
him  meekly. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

SABINA'S  strength  revived  in  the  warm  night  air, 
out  in  the  courtyard,  under  the  stars,  and  the  awful 
danger  from  which  Malipieri  had  saved  her  and  him 
self  looked  unreal,  after  the  first  few  moments  of  lib 
erty.  She  got  his  watch  out  of  her  glove  where  it  had 
been  so  many  hours,  and  by  the  clear  starlight  they 
could  see  that  it  was  nearly  twenty  minutes  past  two 
o'clock.  Malipieri  had  put  out  the  lamp,  and  the  lan 
tern  had  gone  out  for  lack  of  oil,  at  the  last  moment. 
It  was  important  that  Sabina  should  not  be  seen  by 
the  porter,  in  the  very  unlikely  event  of  his  being  up 
at  that  hour. 

They  had  not  thought  that  it  could  be  so  late,  for  it 
was  long  since  Sabina  had  looked  at  the  watch.  The 
first  thing  that  became  clear  to  Malipieri  was  that  it 
would  be  out  of  the  question  for  him  to  take  her  home 
that  night.  The  question  was  where  else  to  take  her. 
She  was  exhausted,  too,  and  needed  food  at  once,  and 
her  clothes  were  wet  from  the  dampness.  It  would  be 
almost  a  miracle  if  she  did  not  fall  ill,  even  if  she  were 
well  taken  care  of  at  once. 

There  was  only  one  thing  to  be  done  :  she  must  go 
up  to  his  apartment,  and  have  something  to  eat,  and 
then  she  must  rest.  In  the  meantime  they  would  make 
some  plan  in  order  to  explain  her  absence. 

252 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  253 

The  porter's  wife  might  have  been  of  some  use,  if 
she  could  have  been  trusted  with  what  must  for  ever 
remain  a  dead  secret,  namely,  that  Sabina  had  spent  the 
night  in  Malipieri's  rooms ;  for  that  would  be  the  plain 
fact  to-morrow  morning.  What  had  happened  to  Sassi 
and  Masin  was  a  mystery,  but  it  was  inconceivable  that 
either  of  them  should  have  been  free  to  act  during  the 
past  eight  or  nine  hours  and  should  have  made  no  effort 
to  save  the  two  persons  to  whom  they  were  respectively 
devoted  as  to  no  one  else  in  the  world. 

Exhausted  though  he  was,  Malipieri  would  have  gone 
down  into  the  cellars  at  once  to  try  and  find  some  trace 
of  them,  if  he  had  not  felt  that  Sabina  must  be  cared 
for  first ;  and  moreover  he  was  sure  that  if  he  found 
them  at  all,  he  should  find  them  both  dead. 

All  this  had  been  clear  to  him  before  he  had  at  last 
succeeded  in  bringing  her  out  into  the  open  air. 

"  There  is  no  help  for  it,"  he  whispered,  "  you  must 
come  upstairs.  Do  you  think  you  can  walk  so  far  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  can  !  "  she  answered,  straightening 
herself  bravely.  "I  am  not  at  all  tired." 

Nevertheless  she  gladly  laid  her  hand  on  his  aching 
arm,  and  they  both  walked  cautiously  along  the  paved 
gutter  that  separated  the  wall  from  the  gravel,  for  their 
steps  would  have  made  much  more  noise  on  the  latter. 
All  was  quiet,  and  they  reached  Malipieri's  door,  by 
the  help  of  a  wax  light.  He  led  her  in,  still  carrying 
the  match,  and  he  shut  the  door  softly  after  him. 

"At  least,"  Sabina  said,  "no  one  can  hear  us  here." 

"Hush!" 


254  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

He  suspected  that  Toto  must  have  got  out,  but  was 
not  sure.  After  lighting  a  candle,  he  led  the  way  into 
his  study,  and  made  Sabina  sit  down,  while  he  went 
back.  He  returned  in  a  few  moments,  having  assured 
himself  that  Toto  had  escaped  by  the  window,  and  that 
Masin  was  not  in,  and  asleep. 

"  Masin  has  disappeared,"  he  said.  "  We  can  talk 
as  much  as  we  please,  while  you  have  your  supper." 

He  had  brought  bread  and  wine  and  water,  which  he 
set  before  her,  and  he  went  off  again  to  find  something 
else.  She  ate  hungrily  after  drinking  a  glass  at  a 
draught.  He  reappeared  with  the  remains  of  some 
cold  meat  and  ham. 

"  It  is  all  I  have,"  he  explained,  "  but  there  is  plenty 
of  bread." 

"  Nothing  ever  tasted  so  good,"  answered  Sabina 
gravely. 

He  sat  down  opposite  to  her  and  drank,  and  began  to 
eat  the  bread.  His  hands  were  grimy,  and  had  bled 
here  and  there  at  the  knuckles  where  they  had  grazed 
the  broken  masonry.  His  face  was  streaked  with  dried 
perspiration  and  dust,  his  collar  was  no  longer  a  collar 
at  all. 

As  for  Sabina,  she  had  tried  to  take  off  the  fawn- 
coloured  hat,  but  it  had  in  some  way  become  entangled 
with  her  unruly  hair,  and  it  was  hanging  down  her 
back.  Otherwise,  as  she  sat  there  her  dress  was  not 
visibly  much  the  worse  for  the  terrible  adventure. 
Her  skirt  was  torn  and  soiled,  indeed,  but  the  table 
hid  it,  and  the  coat  had  kept  the  body  of  her  frock 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  265 

quite  clean.  She  did  not  look  much  more  dishev 
elled  than  if  she  had  been  at  a  romping  picnic  in  the 
country. 

Nor  did  she  look  at  all  ill,  after  the  wine  and  the 
first  mouthfuls  of  food  had  brought  all  the  warmth 
back  to  her.  If  anything,  she  was  less  pale  than 
usual  now,  her  lips  were  red  again,  and  there  was 
light  in  her  eyes.  There  are  little  women  who  look 
as  if  they  had  no  strength  at  all,  and  seem  often  on 
the  point  of  breaking  down,  but  who  could  go  through 
a  battle  or  a  shipwreck  almost  without  turning  a  hair, 
and  without  much  thought  of  their  appearance  either  ; 
nor  are  they  by  any  means  generally  the  mildest  and 
least  reckless  of  their  sex. 

The  two  ate  in  silence  for  several  minutes,  but  they 
looked  at  each  other  and  smiled  now  and  then,  while 
they  swallowed  mouthful  after  mouthful. 

"  I  wish  I  had  counted  the  slices  of  bread  I  have 
eaten,"  said  Sabina  at  last. 

Malipieri  laughed  gaily.  It  did  not  seem  possible 
that  an  hour  or  two  earlier  they  had  been  looking 
death  in  the  face.  But  his  laughter  died  away  sud 
denly,  and  he  was  very  grave  in  a  moment. 

"I  do  not  know  what  to  do  now,"  he  said.  "We 
shall  have  to  make  the  Baroness  believe  that  you  have 
spent  the  night  at  Sassi's  house.  That  is  the  only  place 
where  you  can  possibly  be  supposed  to  have  been.  I  am 
not  good  at  lying,  I  believe.  Can  you  help  me  at  all  ?  " 

Sabina  laughed. 

"  That  is  a  flattering  way  of  putting  it ! "  she  an- 


256  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

swered.  "  It  is  true  that  I  was  brought  up  to  lie 
about  everything,  but  I  never  liked  it.  The  others 
used  to  ask  me  why  I  would  not,  and  whether  I 
thought  myself  better  than  they." 

"  What  are  we  to  do  ?  " 

"  Suppose  that  we  tell  the  truth,"  said  Sabina,  nib 
bling  thoughtfully  at  a  last  slice  of  bread.  "It  is 
much  easier,  you  know." 

"Yes." 

Malipieri  set  his  elbows  on  the  table,  leaned  his 
bearded  chin  upon  his  scarred  knuckles  and  looked  at 
her.  He  wondered  whether  in  her  innocence  she  even 
faintly  guessed  what  people  would  think  of  her,  if  they 
knew  that  she  had  spent  a  night  in  his  rooms.  He  had 
no  experience  at  all  of  young  girls,  and  he  wondered 
whether  there  were  many  like  Sabina.  He  thought  it 
unlikely. 

"  I  believe  in  telling  the  truth,  too,"  he  said  at  last. 
*'  But  when  you  do,  you  must  trust  the  person  to  whom 
it  is  told.  Now  the  person  in  this  case  will  be  the 
Baroness  Volterra.  I  shall  have  to  go  and  see  her  in 
the  morning,  and  tell  her  what  has  happened.  Then, 
if  she  believes  me,  she  must  come  here  in  a  cab  and 
take  you  back.  That  will  be  absolutely  necessary. 
You  need  say  nothing  that  I  have  not  said,  and  I  shall 
say  nothing  that  is  not  true." 

"  That  is  the  best  way,"  said  Sabina,  who  liked  the 
simplicity  of  the  plan. 

Her  voice  sounded  sleepy,  and  she  suppressed  a  little 
yawn. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  257 

"  But  suppose  that  she  refuses  to  believe  me,"  Mali- 
pieri  continued,  without  noticing  her  weariness,  "  what 
then  ?  " 

"  What  else  can  she  believe  ? "  asked  Sabina  in 
differently. 

Malipieri  did  not  answer  for  a  long  time,  and  looked 
away,  while  he  thought  over  the  very  difficult  situa 
tion.  When  he  turned  to  her  again,  he  saw  that  she 
was  resting  her  head  in  her  hand  and  that  her  eyes 
were  closed. 

"  You  are  sleepy,"  he  said. 

She  looked  up,  and  smiled,  hardly  able  to  keep  her 
eyes  open. 

"  So  sleepy  !  "  she  answered  slowly.  "  I  cannot  keep 
awake  a  moment  longer." 

"  You  must  go  to  bed,"  he  said,  rising. 

"Yes  —  anywhere  !     Only  let  me  sleep." 

"You  will  have  to  sleep  in  my  room.  Do  you  mind 
very  much  ?  " 

"  Anywhere  !  "  She  hardly  knew  what  she  said,  she 
hardly  saw  his  face  any  longer. 

He  led  the  way  with  one  of  the  lights,  and  she  fol 
lowed  him  with  her  eyes  half  shut. 
,    "  It  seems  to  be  in  tolerably  good  order,"  he  said, 
glancing  round,  and  setting  down  the  candle.     "The 
key  is  in  the  inside.     Turn  it,  please,  when  I  am  gone." 

The  room  was  scrupulously  neat.  Malipieri  shut 
the  window  carefully.  When  he  turned,  he  saw  that 
she  was  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  nodding  with 
sleep. 


258  THE  HEART   OF   ROME 

"  Good-night,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice  that  was  never 
theless  harsh.  "  Lock  your  door." 

"  Good-night,"  she  answered,  with  an  effort. 

He  did  not  look  at  her  again  as  he  went  out  and 
shut  the  door,  and  he  went  quickly  through  the  small 
room  which  divided  the  bedroom  from  the  study,  and 
in  which  he  kept  most  of  his  clothes.  He  was  very 
wide  awake  now,  in  spite  of  being  tired,  and  he  sat 
down  in  his  armchair  and  smoked  for  some  time.  Sud 
denly  he  noticed  the  state  of  his  hands,  and  he  realized 
what  his  appearance  must  be. 

Without  making  any  noise,  though  he  was  sure  that 
Sabina  was  in  a  deep  sleep  by  this  time,  he  went  back 
through  the  first  door  and  quietly  got  a  supply  of 
clothes,  and  took  them  with  him  to  Masin's  room,  and 
washed  there,  and  dressed  himself  as  carefully  as  if  he 
were  going  out.  Then  he  went  back  to  his  study  and 
sat  down  wearily  in  his  armchair.  Worn  out  at  last, 
he  was  asleep  in  a  few  minutes,  asleep  as  men  are 
after  a  battle,  whether  the  fight  has  ended  in  victory 
or  defeat.  Even  the  thought  of  Sabina  did  not  keep 
him  awake,  and  he  would  not  have  thought  of  her  at 
all  as  he  sat  down,  if  he  could  have  helped  it. 

After  such  a  night  as  they  had  passed  it  was  not 
likely  that  they  should  wake  before  ten  o'clock  on 
the  following  morning. 

But  the  porter  was  up  early,  as  usual,  with  his 
broom,  to  sweep  the  stairs  and  the  paved  entrance 
under  the  arch.  When  he  had  come  back  from  the 
errand  on  which  Malipieri  had  sent  him,  it  had  been 


THE  HEART   OF   HOME  259 

already  dusk.  He  had  gone  up  and  had  rung  the  bell 
several  times,  but  as  no  one  opened  he  had  returned 
to  his  lodge.  It  was  not  unusual  for  Malipieri  and 
Masin  to  be  both  out  at  the  same  time,  and  he  thought 
it  likely  that  they  were  in  the  vaults.  He  cursed  them 
both  quietly  for  the  trouble  they  had  given  him  of 
mounting  the  stairs  for  nothing,  and  went  to  his 
supper,  and  in  due  time  to  bed. 

He  must  go  up  again  at  eight  o'clock,  by  which 
time  Malipieri  was  always  dressed,  and  as  it  was  now 
only  seven  o'clock  he  had  plenty  of  time  to  sweep.  So 
he  lit  his  pipe  deliberately  and  took  his  broom,  and 
went  out  of  his  lodge. 

The  first  thing  that  met  his  eye  was  a  dark  stain  on 
the  stones,  close  to  the  postern.  He  passed  his  broom 
over  it,  and  saw  that  it  was  dry ;  and  it  was  red,  but 
not  like  wine.  Wine  makes  a  purple  stain  on  stones. 
He  stooped  and  scratched  it  with  his  thick  thumbnail. 
It  was  undoubtedly  blood,  and  nothing  else.  Some  one 
had  been  badly  hurt  there,  or  being  wounded  had  stood 
some  moments  on  the  spot  to  open  the  door  and  get  out. 

The  old  man  leaned  on  his  broom  awhile,  consider 
ing  the  matter,  and  debating  whether  he  should  call 
his  wife.  His  natural  impulse  was  not  to  do  so,  but 
to  get  a  bucket  of  water  and  wash  the  place  before  she 
could  see  it.  The  idea  of  going  out  and  calling  a 
policeman  never  occurred  to  him,  for  he  was  a  real 
Roman,  and  his  first  instinct  was  to  remove  every 
trace  of  blood  from  the  house  in  which  he  lived, 
whether  it  had  been  shed  by  accident  or  in  quarrel. 


260  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

On  the  other  hand,  his  wife  might  come  out  at  any 
moment,  to  go  to  her  work,  and  find  him  washing  the 
pavement,  and  she  would  of  course  suppose  that  he 
had  killed  somebody  or  had  helped  to  kill  somebody 
during  the  night,  and  would  begin  to  scream,  and  call 
him  an  assassin,  and  there  would  be  a  great  noise,  and 
much  trouble  afterwards.  According  to  his  view,  any 
woman  would  naturally  behave  in  this  way,  and  as  his 
views  were  founded  on  his  own  experience,  he  was 
probably  right,  so  far  as  his  wife  was  concerned.  He 
therefore  determined  to  call  her. 

She  came,  she  saw,  she  threw  up  her  hands  and 
moaned  a  little  about  the  curse  that  was  on  the  house, 
and  she  helped  him  to  scrub  the  stones  as  quickly  as 
possible.  When  that  was  done,  and  when  they  had 
flooded  the  whole  pavement  under  the  arch,  in  order 
to  conceal  the  fact  that  it  had  been  washed  in  one 
place,  it  occurred  to  them  that  they  should  look  on  the 
stairs,  to  see  if  there  were  any  blood  there,  and  in  the 
courtyard,  too,  near  the  entrance;  but  they  could  not 
find  anything,  and  it  was  time  for  the  woman  to  go  to 
the  place  where  she  worked  all  day  at  ironing  fine 
linen,  which  had  been  her  occupation  before  she  had 
been  married.  So  she  went  away,  leaving  her  husband 
alone. 

He  smoked  thoughtfully  and  swept  the  stone  gutter, 
towards  the  other  end  of  the  courtyard.  He  noticed 
nothing  unusual,  until  he  reached  the  door  of  the 
coach-house,  and  saw  that  it  was  ajar,  whereas  it  was 
always  locked,  and  he  had  the  key  in  his  lodge.  He 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  261 

opened  it,  and  looked  in.  The  flood  of  morning  light 
fell  upon  a  little  heap  of  broken  brick  and  mortar,  and 
he  saw  at  a  glance  that  a  small  breach  had  been  made 
in  the  wall.  This  did  not  surprise  him,  for  he  knew 
that  Malipieri  and  Masin  had  made  holes  in  more  than 
one  place,  and  the  architect  had  more  than  once  taken 
the  key  of  the  coach-house. 

What  frightened  him  was  the  steady,  roaring  sound 
that  came  from  the  breach.  He  would  as  soon  have 
thought  of  trusting  himself  to  enter  the  place,  as  of 
facing  the  powers  of  darkness,  even  if  his  big  body 
could  have  squeezed  itself  through  the  aperture.  But 
he  guessed  that  the  sound  came  from  the  "  lost  water," 
which  he  had  more  than  once  heard  in  the  cellar  be 
low,  in  its  own  channel,  and  he  was  instinctively  sure 
that  something  had  happened  which  might  endanger 
the  palace.  The  cellars  were  probably  flooded. 

On  the  mere  chance  that  the  door  of  the  winding 
staircase  might  not  be  locked,  he  went  out  and  turned 
into  the  passage  where  it  was.  He  found  it  wide 
open.  He  had  in  his  pocket  one  of  those  long  wax 
tapers  rolled  into  a  little  ball,  which  Roman  porters 
generally  have  about  them ;  he  lit  it  and  went  down. 
There  was  water  at  the  foot  of  the  steps,  water 
several  feet  deep.  He  retreated,  and  with  more  haste 
than  he  usually  showed  to  do  anything,  he  crossed 
the  courtyard  and  went  up  to  call  Malipieri. 

But  Malipieri  was  asleep  in  his  armchair  in  the 
inner  room,  and  the  bell  only  rang  in  the  outer  hall. 
The  old  man  rang  it  again  and  again,  but  no  one  came. 


262  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

Then  he  stood  still  on  the  landing,  took  off  his  cap 
and  deliberately  scratched  his  head.  In  former  times, 
it  would  have  been  his  duty  to  inform  Sassi,  in  whom 
centred  every  responsibility  connected  with  the  palace. 
But  the  porter  did  not  know  whether  Sassi  were  dead 
or  alive  now,  and  was  quite  sure  that  the  Baron  would 
not  approve  of  sending  for  him. 

There  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  inform  the 
Baron  himself,  without  delay,  since  Malipieri  was 
apparently  already  gone  out.  The  Baron  would  take 
the  responsibility,  since  the  house  was  his. 

The  porter  went  down  to  his  lodge,  took  off  his 
old  linen  jacket  and  put  on  his  best  coat  and  cap,  put 
some  change  into  his  pocket,  went  out  and  turned 
the  key  of  the  lock  in  the  postern,  and  then  stumped 
off  towards  the  Piazza  Sant'  Apollinare  to  get  a  cab, 
for  there  was  no  time  to  be  lost. 

It  was  eight  o'clock  when  he  rang  at  the  smart 
new  house  in  the  Via  Ludovisi.  Sabina  and  Mali 
pieri  had  slept  barely  five  hours. 

A  footman  in  an  apron  opened  the  door,  and  with 
out  waiting  to  know  his  business,  asked  him  why  he 
did  not  go  to  the  servants'  entrance. 

"  I  live  in  a  palace  where  there  is  a  porter,"  an 
swered  the  old  man,  assuming  the  overpowering  man 
ner  that  belongs  to  the  retainers  of  really  great  old 
Roman  houses.  "  Please  inform  the  Baron  that  the 
4  lost  water '  has  broken  out  and  flooded  the  cellars  of 
the  Palazzo  Conti,  and  that  I  am  waiting  for  instruc 
tions." 


CHAPTER   XVII 

VOLTERBA  went  to  bed  early,  but  he  did  not  rise 
late,  for  he  was  always  busy,  and  had  many  interests 
that  needed  constant  attention ;  and  he  had  preserved 
the  habits  of  a  man  who  had  enriched  himself  and 
succeeded  in  life  by  being  wide  awake  and  at  work 
when  other  people  were  napping  or  amusing  them 
selves.  At  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  he  was 
already  in  his  study,  reading  his  letters,  and  waiting 
for  his  secretary. 

He  sent  for  the  porter,  listened  to  his  story  atten 
tively,  and  without  expressing  any  opinion  about  what 
had  happened,  went  directly  to  the  palace  in  the  cab 
which  had  brought  the  old  man.  He  made  the  latter 
sit  beside  him,  because  it  would  be  an  excellent  op 
portunity  of  showing  the  world  that  he  was  truly 
democratic.  Half  of  Rome  knew  him  by  sight  at 
least,  though  not  one  in  twenty  thousand  could  have 
defined  his  political  opinions. 

At  the  palace  he  paid  the  cabman  instead  of  keep 
ing  him  by  the  hour,  for  he  expected  to  stay  some 
time,  and  it  was  against  his  principles  to  spend  a 
farthing  for  what  he  did  not  want.  As  he  entered 
through  the  postern,  he  glanced  approvingly  at  the 
damp  pavement.  He  did  not  in  the  least  believe 

263 


264  THE   HEAET    OF    ROME 

that  the  porter  washed  it  every  morning,  of  course, 
but  he  appreciated  the  fact  that  the  man  evidently 
wished  him  to  think  so,  and  was  afraid  of  him. 

"  You  say  that  you  rang  several  times  at  Signor 
Malipieri's  door,"  he  said.  "  Has  he  not  told  you  that 
he  is  going  to  live  somewhere  else  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Does  he  never  leave  his  key  with  you  when  he  goes 
out  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Did  you  see  him  come  in  last  night  ?  Was  he  at 
home  ?  " 

"No,  sir.  I  rang  several  times,  about  dusk,  but  no 
one  opened.  I  did  not  hear  him  come  in  after  that. 
Shall  I  go  up  and  ring*  again  ?  " 

"No."  Volterra  reflected  for  a  moment.  "  He  has 
left,  and  has  taken  his  key  by  mistake,"  he  said.  "  But 
I  should  think  that  you  must  have  seen  him  go.  He 
would  have  had  some  luggage  with  him." 

The  porter  explained  that  Malipieri  had  sent  him  on 
an  errand  on  the  previous  afternoon,  and  had  been  gone 
when  he  returned.  This  seemed  suspicious  to  Volterra, 
as  indeed  it  must  have  looked  to  any  one.  Considering 
his  views  of  mankind  generally,  it  was  not  surprising 
if  he  thought  that  Malipieri  might  have  absconded  with 
something  valuable  which  he  had  found  in  the  vaults. 
He  remembered,  too,  that  Malipieri  had  been  unwilling 
to  let  him  visit  the  treasure  on  the  previous  day,  and 
had  named  the  coming  afternoon  instead. 

"  Can  you  get  a  man  to  open  the  door  ?  "  he  asked. 


THE  HEART   OF   ROME  265 

"  There  is  Gigi,  the  carpenter  of  the  palace,"  an 
swered  the  porter.  "  He  is  better  than  a  locksmith 
and  his  shop  is  close  by  —  but  there  is  the  water  in  the 
cellars  —  " 

"Go  and  get  him,"  said  the  Baron.  "I  will  wait 
here." 

The  porter  went  out,  and  Volterra  began  to  walk 
slowly  up  and  down  under  the  archway,  breathing 
the  morning  air  with  satisfaction,  and  jingling  a  little 
bunch  of  keys  in  his  pocket. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  postern.  He  listened  and 
stood  still.  He  knew  that  the  porter  had  the  key,  for 
he  had  just  seen  him  return  it  to  his  pocket  after  they 
had  both  come  in  ;  he  did  not  wish  to  be  disturbed  by 
any  one  else  just  then,  so  he*  neither  answered  nor 
moved.  The  knock  was  repeated,  louder  than  before. 
It  had  an  authoritative  sound,  and  no  one  but  Mali- 
pieri  himself  would  have  a  right  to  knock  in  that  way. 
Volterra  went  to  the  door  at  once,  but  did  not  open  it. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  he  asked,  through  the  heavy  panel. 

"The  police,"  came  the  answer,  short  and  sharp. 
"  Open  at  once." 

Volterra  opened,  and  was  confronted  by  a  man  in 
plain  clothes,  who  was  accompanied  by  two  soldiers 
in  grey  uniforms,  and  another  man,  who  looked  like 
a  cabman.  On  seeing  a  gentleman,  the  detective,  who 
had  been  about  to  enter  unceremoniously,  checked  him 
self  and  raised  his  hat,  with  an  apology.  Volterra 
stepped  back. 

"  Come  in,"  he  said,  "  and  tell  me  what  your  busi- 


266  THE   HEART   OP   ROME 

ness  is.  I  am  the  owner  of  this  palace,  at  present.  I 
am  Baron  Volterra,  and  a  Senator." 

The  men  all  became  very  polite  at  once,  and  entered 
rather  sheepishly.  The  cabman  came  in  last,  and  Vol 
terra  shut  the  door. 

"  Who  is  this  individual  ?  "  he  asked,  looking  at  the 
cabman. 

"  Tell  your  story,"  said  the  man  in  plain  clothes, 
addressing  the  latter. 

"  I  am  a  coachman,  Excellency,"  the  man  answered  in 
a  servile  tone.  "  I  have  a  cab,  number  eight  hundred 
and  seventy-six,  at  the  service  of  your  Excellency,  and 
it  was  I  who  drove  the  gentleman  to  the  hospital  yes 
terday  afternoon." 

"  What  gentleman  ?  " 

"  The  gentleman  who  was  hurt  in  the  house  of  your 
Excellency." 

Volterra  stared  from  the  cabman  to  the  man  in  plain 
clothes,  not  understanding.  Then  it  occurred  to  him 
that  the  man  in  uniform  might  be  wearing  it  as  a  dis 
guise,  and  that  he  had  to  do  with  a  party  of  clever 
thieves,  and  he  felt  for  a  little  revolver  which  he  always 
carried  about  with  him. 

"  I  know  nothing  about  the  matter,"  he  said. 

"  Excellency,"  continued  the  cabman,  "  the  poor  gen 
tleman  was  lying  here,  close  to  the  door,  bleeding  from 
his  head.  You  see  the  porter  has  washed  the  stones 
this  morning." 

"  Go  on."     Volterra  listened  attentively. 

"  A  big  man  who  looked  more  like  a  workman  than 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  267 

a  servant  came  to  call  me  in  the  square.  When  we  got 
here,  he  unlocked  the  door  himself,  and  made  me  help 
him  to  put  the  gentleman  into  the  cab.  It  was  about 
half-past  five  or  a  quarter  to  six,  Excellency,  and  I 
waited  at  the  hospital  door  till  eight  o'clock,  but  could 
not  get  any  money." 

"  What  became  of  the  big  man  who  called  you  ? " 
asked  Volterra.  "  Why  did  he  not  pay  you  ?  " 

"  He  was  arrested,  Excellency." 

"  Arrested  ?  Why  ?  For  taking  a  wounded  man  to 
the  hospital  ?  " 

"  Yes.  You  can  imagine  that  I  did  not  wish  to  be  con 
cerned  in  other  people's  troubles,  Excellency,  nor  to  be 
asked  questions.  So  when  I  had  seen  the  man  and  the 
doorkeepers  take  the  gentleman  in,  I  drove  on  about 
twenty  paces,  and  waited  for  the  man  to  come  out. 
But  soon  two  policemen  came  and  went  in,  and  came 
out  again  a  few  minutes  later  with  the  big  man  walk 
ing  quietly  between  them,  and  they  went  off  in  the 
other  direction,  so  that  he  did  not  even  notice  me." 

"  What  did  you  do  then  ?  " 

"  May  it  please  your  Excellency,  I  went  back  to  the 
door  and  asked  the  doorkeeper  why  the  man  had  been 
arrested,  and  told  him  I  had  not  been  paid.  But  he 
laughed  in  my  face,  and  advised  me  to  go  to  the  police 
for  my  fare,  since  the  police  had  taken  the  man  away. 
And  I  asked  him  many  questions  but  he  drove  me  away 
with  several  evil  words." 

"  Is  that  all  that  happened?  "  asked  Volterra.  "  Do 
you  know  nothing  more  ?  " 


268  THE   HEART    OF    ROME 

"  Nothing,  your  Excellency,"  whined  the  man,  "  and 
I  am  a  poor  father  of  a  family  with  eight  children,  and 
my  wife  is  ill  —  " 

"  Yes,"  interrupted  Volterra,  "  I  suppose  so.  And 
what  do  you  know  about  it  all  ?  "  he  enquired,  turning 
to  the  man  in  plain  clothes. 

"This,  sir.  The  gentleman  was  still  unconscious 
this  morning,  but  turns  out  to  be  a  certain  Signor 
Pompeo  Sassi.  His  cards  were  in  his  pocket-book. 
The  man  who  took  him  to  the  hospital  was  arrested 
because  he  entirely  declined  to  give  his  name,  or  to 
explain  what  had  happened,  or  where  he  had  found  the 
wounded  gentleman.  Of  course  all  the  police  stations 
were  informed  during  the  night,  as  the  affair  seemed 
mysterious,  and  when  this  cabman  came  this  morning 
and  lodged  a  complaint  of  not  having  been  paid  for 
a  fare  from  this  palace  to  the  hospital,  it  looked  as  if 
whatever  had  happened,  must  have  happened  here,  or 
near  here,  and  I  was  sent  to  make  enquiries." 

"  That  is  perfectly  clear,"  the  Baron  said,  taking  out 
his  pocket-book.  "You  have  no  complaint  to  make, 
except  that  you  were  not  paid,"  he  continued,  speaking 
to  the  cabman.  "  There  are  ten  francs,  which  is  much 
more  than  is  owing  to  you.  Give  me  your  number." 

The  man  knew  that  it  was  useless  to  ask  for  more, 
and  as  he  produced  his  printed  number  and  gave  it,  he 
implored  the  most  complicated  benedictions,  even  to 
miracles,  including  a  thousand  years  of  life  and  ever 
lasting  salvation  afterwards,  ?,11  for  the  Baron,  his 
family,  and  his  descendants. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  269 

"I  suppose  he  may  go  now,"  Volterra  said  to  the 
police  officer. 

The  cabman  would  have  liked  to  stay,  but  one  of  the 
soldiers  opened  the  postern  and  stood  waiting  by  it  till 
he  had  gone  out,  and  closed  it  upon  his  parting  volley 
of  blessings.  The  Senator  reflected  that  they  might 
mean  a  vote,  some  day,  and  did  not  regret  his  ten 
francs. 

"  I  know  Signor  Sassi,"  he  said  to  the  detective. 
"  He  was  the  agent  of  Prince  Conti's  estate,  and  of  this 
palace.  But  I  did  not  know  that  he  had  been  here 
yesterday  afternoon.  I  live  in  the  Via  Ludovisi  and 
had  just  come  here  on  business,  when  you  knocked." 

He  was  very  affable  now,  and  explained  the  porter's 
absence,  and  the  fact  that  a  gentleman  who  had  lived 
in  the  house,  but  had  left  it,  had  accidentally  taken  his 
key  with  him,  so  that  it  was  necessary  to  get  a  work 
man  to  open  the  door. 

"And  it  is  as  well  that  you  should  be  here,"  he 
added,  "  for  the  big  man  of  whom  the  cabman  spoke 
may  be  the  servant  of  that  gentleman.  I  remember 
seeing  him  once,  and  I  noticed  that  he  was  unusually 
big.  He  may  have  been  here  yesterday  after  his 
master  left,  and  we  may  find  some  clue  in  the  apart 
ment." 

"  Excellent !  "  said  the  detective,  rubbing  his  hands. 

He  was  particularly  fond  of  cases  in  which  doors 
had  to  be  opened  by  force,  and  understood  that  part 
of  his  business  thoroughly. 

The  key  turned  in  the  lock  of  the  postern,  and  the 


270  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

porter  entered,  bringing  Gigi  with  him.  They  both 
started  and  turned  pale  when  they  saw  the  policeman 
and  the  detective. 

"  At  what  time  did  Signor  Malipieri  send  you  out 
on  that  errand  yesterday  afternoon?"  asked  Volterra, 
looking  hard  at  the  porter. 

The  old  man  drew  himself  up,  wiped  his  forehead 
with  a  blue  cotton  handkerchief,  and  looked  from  the 
Baron  to  the  detective,  trying  to  make  out  whether  his 
employer  wished  him  to  speak  the  truth.  A  moment's 
reflection  told  him  that  he  had  better  do  so,  as  the 
visit  of  the  police  must  be  connected  with  the  stain  of 
blood  he  had  washed  from  the  pavement,  and  he  could 
prove  that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  it. 

"  It  was  about  five  o'clock,"  he  answered  quietly. 

"And  when  did  you  come  back?"  enquired  the 
detective. 

"  It  was  dusk.  It  was  after  Ave  Maria,  for  I  heard 
the  bells  ringing  before  I  got  here." 

"And  you  did  not  notice  the  blood  on  the  stones 
when  you  came  in,  because  it  was  dusk,  I  suppose," 
said  the  detective,  assuming  a  knowing  smile,  as  if  he 
had  caught  the  man. 

"  I  saw  it  this  morning,"  answered  the  porter  with 
out  hesitation,  "and  I  washed  it  away." 

"  You  should  have  called  the  police,"  said  the  other 
severely. 

"Should  I,  sir?"  The  porter  affected  great  polite 
ness  all  at  once.  "You  will  excuse  my  ignorance." 

"  We  are  wasting  time,"  Volterra  said  to  the  de- 


THE  HEAKT   OF   HOME  271 

tective.  "  The  porter  knows  nothing  about  it.  Let 
us  go  upstairs." 

He  led  the  way,  and  the  others  followed,  including 
Gigi,  who  carried  a  leathern  bag  containing  a  few 
tools. 

"  It  is  of  no  use  to  ring  again,"  observed  Yolterra. 
"  There  cannot  be  anybody  in  the  apartment,  and  this 
is  my  own  house.  Open  that  door  for  us,  my  man, 
and  do  as  little  damage  as  you  can." 

Gigi  looked  at  the  patent  lock. 

"I  cannot  pick  that,  sir,"  he  said.  "The  gentle 
man  made  me  put  it  on  for  him,  and  it  is  one  of  those 
American  patent  locks." 

"  Break  it,  then,"  Volterra  answered. 

Gigi  selected  a  strong  chisel,  and  inserted  the  blade 
in  the  crack  of  the  door,  on  a  level  with  the  brass  disk. 
He  found  the  steel  bolt  easily. 

"  Take  care,"  he  said  to  the  Baron,  who  was  nearest 
to  him  and  drew  back  to  give  him  room  to  swing  his 
hammer. 

He  struck  three  heavy  blows,  and  the  door  flew  open 
at  the  third.  The  detective  had  looked  at  his  watch, 
for  it  was  his  business  to  note  the  hour  at  which  any 
forcible  entrance  was  made.  It  was  twenty  minutes 
to  nine.  Malipieri  and  Sabina  had  slept  a  little  more 
than  five  hours  and  a  half. 

Malipieri,  still  sleeping  heavily  in  his  armchair, 
heard  the  noise  in  a  dream.  He  fancied  he  was  in  the 
vaults  again,  driving  his  crowbar  into  the  bricks,  and 
that  he  suddenly  heard  Masin  working  from  the  other 


272  THE  HEART   OF   ROME 

side.  But  Masin  was  not  alone,  for  there  were  voices, 
and  he  had  several  people  with  him. 

Malipieri  awoke  with  a  violent  start.  Volterra,  the 
detective,  the  two  police  soldiers,  Gigi  and  the  porter 
were  all  in  the  study,  looking  at  him  as  he  sat  there  in 
his  armchair,  in  the  broad  light,  carefully  dressed  as  if 
he  had  been  about  to  go  out  when  he  had  sat  down. 

"  You  sleep  soundly,  Signor  Malipieri,"  said  the  fat 
Baron,  with  a  caressing  smile. 

Malipieri  had  good  nerves,  but  for  a  moment  he  was 
dazed,  and  then,  perhaps  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he 
was  thoroughly  frightened,  for  he  knew  that  Sabina 
must  be  still  asleep  in  his  room,  and  in  spite  of  his 
urgent  request  when  he  had  left  her,  he  did  not  believe 
that  she  had  locked  the  door  after  all.  The  first  thought 
that  flashed  upon  him  was  that  Volterra  had  somehow 
discovered  that  she  was  there,  and  had  come  to  find  her. 
There  were  six  men  in  the  room  ;  he  guessed  that  the 
Baron  was  one  of  those  people  who  carry  revolvers 
about  with  them,  and  two  of  the  others  were  police 
soldiers,  also  armed  with  revolvers.  He  was  evidently 
at  their  mercy.  Short  of  throwing  at  least  three  of  the 
party  out  of  the  window,  nothing  could  avail.  Such 
things  are  done  without  an  effort  on  the  stage  by  the 
merest  wisp  of  a  man,  but  in  real  life  one  must  be  a 
Hercules  or  a  gladiator  even  to  attempt  them.  Malipieri 
thought  of  what  Sabina  had  said  in  the  vault.  Had 
any  two  people  ever  been  in  such  a  situation  before  ? 

For  one  instant,  his  heart  stood  still,  and  he  passed 
his  hand  over  his  eyes. 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  273 

"  Excuse  me,"  he  said  then,  quite  naturally.  "  I  had 
dressed  to  go  to  your  house  this  morning,  and  I  fell 
asleep  in  my  chair  while  waiting  till  it  should  be  time. 
How  did  you  get  in  ?  And  why  have  you  brought 
these  people  with  you  ?  " 

He  was  perfectly  cool  now,  and  the  Baron  regretted 
that  he  had  made  a  forcible  entrance. 

"  I  must  really  apologize,"  he  answered.  "  The  porter 
rang  yesterday  evening,  several  times,  and  again  this 
morning,  but  could  get  no  answer,  and  as  you  had  told 
me  that  you  were  going  to  change  your  quarters,  we 
supposed  that  you  had  left  and  had  accidentally  taken 
the  key  with  you." 

Malipieri  did  not  believe  a  word  of  what  he  said,  but 
the  tone  was  very  apologetic. 

"  The  cellars  are  flooded,"  said  the  porter,  speaking 
over  Volterra's  shoulder. 

"  I  know  it,"  Malipieri  answered.  "  I  was  going  to 
inform  you  of  that  this  morning,"  he  continued,  speak 
ing  to  the  Baron.  "  I  do  not  think  that  the  police  are 
necessary  to  our  conversation,"  he  added,  smiling  at  the 
detective. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  answered  the  latter,  "  but 
we  are  here  to  ask  if  you  know  anything  of  a  grave 
accident  to  a  certain  Signor  Sassi,  who  was  taken  from 
this  palace  unconscious,  yesterday  afternoon,  at  about 
a  quarter  to  six,  by  a  very  large  man,  who  would  not 
give  any  name,  nor  any  explanation,  and  who  was 
consequently  arrested." 

Malipieri  did  not  hesitate. 


274  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"  Only  this  much,"  he  replied.  "  With  the  authority 
of  the  Senator  here,  who  is  the  owner  of  the  palace, 
I  have  been  making  some  archaeological  excavations 
in  the  cellars.  Signer  Sassi  was  the  agent  — " 

"  I  have  explained  that,"  interrupted  the  Baron, 
turning  to  the  detective.  "  I  will  assume  the  whole 
responsibility  of  this  affair.  Signor  Sassi  shall  be  well 
cared  for.  I  shall  be  much  obliged  if  you  will  leave  us." 

He  spoke  rather  hurriedly. 

"  It  is  my  duty  to  make  a  search  in  order  to  discover 
the  motive  of  the  crime,"  said  the  detective  with  im 
portance. 

"  What  crime  ?  "  asked  Malipieri  with  sudden  stern 
ness. 

"  Signor  Sassi  was  very  badly  injured  in  this  palace," 
answered  the  other.  "  The  man  who  took  him  to  the 
hospital  would  give  no  account  of  himself,  and  the 
circumstances  are  suspicious.  The  Baron  thinks  that 
the  man  may  be  your  servant." 

"  Yes,  he  is  my  servant,"  Malipieri  said.  "  Signor 
Sassi  was  trying  to  follow  me  into  the  excavations  —  " 

"Yes,  yes — that  is  of  no  importance,"  interrupted 
Volterra. 

"  I  think  it  is,"  retorted  Malipieri.  "  I  will  not  let 
any  man  remain  in  prison  suspected  of  having  tried  to 
murder  poor  old  Sassi !  I  went  on,"  he  continued, 
explaining  to  the  detective,  "  leaving  the  two  together. 
The  old  gentleman  must  have  fallen  and  hurt  himself 
so  badly  that  my  man  thought  it  necessary  to  carry  him 
out  at  once.  When  I  tried  to  get  back,  I  found  that 


THE    HEART   OF   ROME  275 

the  water  had  risen  in  the  excavations  and  that  the 
passage  was  entirely  closed,  and  I  had  to  work  all  night 
with  a  crowbar  and  pickaxe  to  break  another  way  for 
myself.  As  for  my  man,  if  he  refused  to  give  any  ex 
planations,  it  was  because  he  had  express  orders  to 
preserve  the  utmost  secrecy  about  the  excavations. 
He  is  a  faithful  fellow,  and  he  obeyed.  That  is  all." 

"  A  very  connected  account,  sir,  from  your  point  of 
view,"  said  the  detective.  "  If  you  will  allow  me,  I 
will  write  it  down.  You  see,  the  service  requires  us 
to  note  everything." 

"Write  it  down  by  all  means,"  Malipieri  answered 
quietly.  "  You  will  find  what  you  need  at  that  table.'* 

The  detective  sat  down,  pulled  back  the  cuff  of  his 
coat,  took  up  the  pen  and  began  his  report  with  a  mag 
nificent  flourish. 

"You  two  may  go,"  said  Malipieri  to  the  porter 
and  Gigi.  "  We  shall  not  want  you  any  more." 

"  As  witnesses,  perhaps,"  said  the  detective,  over 
hearing.  "Pray  let  them  stay." 

He  went  on  writing,  and  the  Baron  settled  himself 
in  Malipieri's  armchair,  and  lit  a  cigar.  Malipieri 
walked  slowly  up  and  down  the  room,  determined  to 
keep  perfectly  cool. 

"  I  hope  the  Baroness  is  quite  well,"  he  said  after  a 
time. 

"  Quite  well,  thank  you,"  answered  Volterra,  nod 
ding  and  smiling. 

Malipieri  continued  to  pace  the  floor,  trying  to  see 
some  way  out  of  the  situation  in  which  he  was  caught, 


276  THE   HEART   OF   BOMB 

and  praying  to  heaven  that  Sabiiia  might  still  be  sound 
asleep.  If  she  were  up,  she  would  certainly  come  to 
the  study  in  search  of  him  before  long,  as  the  doors 
opened  in  no  other  direction.  All  his  nerves  and  fac 
ulties  were  strung  to  the  utmost  tension,  and  if  the 
worst  came  he  was  prepared  to  attempt  anything. 

"  It  is  a  very  fine  day  after  the  rain,"  observed  the 
Baron  presently. 

"It  never  rains  long  in  Rome,  in  the  spring,"  an 
swered  Malipieri. 

The  detective  wrote  steadily,  and  neither  spoke 
again  till  he  had  finished. 

"Of  course,"  he  said  to  Malipieri,  "you  are  quite 
sure  of  your  statements." 

"  Provided  that  you  have  written  down  exactly  what 
I  said,"  Malipieri  answered. 

The  detective  rose  and  handed  him  the  sheets,  at 
which  he  glanced  rapidly. 

"Yes.     That  is  what  I  said." 

"  Let  me  see,"  Volterra  put  in,  rising  and  holding 
out  his  hand. 

He  took  the  paper  and  read  every  word  carefully, 
before  he  returned  the  manuscript. 

"  You  might  add,"  he  said,  "  that  I  have  been  most 
anxious  to  keep  the  excavations  a  secret  because  I  do 
not  wish  to  be  pestered  by  reporters  before  I  have 
handed  over  to  the  government  any  discoveries  which 
may  be  made." 

"  Certainly,"  answered  the  man,  taking  his  pen 
again,  and  writing  rapidly. 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  277 

Volterra  was  almost  as  anxious  to  get  rid  of  him 
as  Malipieri  himself.  What  the  latter  had  said  had 
informed  him  that  in  spite  of  the  water  the  vaults 
could  be  reached,  and  he  was  in  haste  to  go  down. 
He  had,  indeed,  noted  the  fact  that  whereas  Sabina 
had  left  his  house  with  Sassi  at  five  o'clock,  the  latter 
had  been  taken  to  the  hospital  only  three  quarters  of 
an  hour  later,  and  he  wondered  where  she  could  be  ; 
but  it  did  not  even  occur  to  him  as  possible  that  she 
should  be  in  Malipieri's  apartment.  The  idea  would 
have  seemed  preposterous. 

The  detective  rose,  folded  the  sheets  of  paper  and 
placed  them  in  a  large  pocket-book  which  he  produced. 

"  And  now,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  we  have  only  one 
more  formality  to  fulfil,  before  I  have  the  honour  of 
taking  my  leave." 

"What  is  that?"  asked  the  Baron,  beginning  to 
show  his  impatience  at  last. 

"  Signor  Malipieri  —  is  that  your  name,  sir  ?  Yes. 
Signer  Malipieri  will  be  kind  enough  to  let  me  and 
my  men  walk  through  the  rooms  of  the  apartment." 

"  I  think  that  is  quite  unnecessary,"  Malipieri  an 
swered.  "By  this  time  Signor  Sassi  has  probably 
recovered  consciousness,  and  has  told  his  own  story, 
which  will  explain  the  accident." 

"  In  the  performance  of  my  duty,"  objected  the  de 
tective,  "  I  must  go  through  the  house,  to  see  whether 
there  are  any  traces  of  blood.  I  am  sure  that  you  will 
make  no  opposition." 

Fate  was  closing  in  upon  Malipieri,  but  he  kept  his 


278  THE   HEART   OF   KOME 

head  as  well  as  he  could.  He  opened  the  door  that 
led  back  to  the  hall. 

"  Will  you  come  ?  "  he  said,  showing  the  way. 

The  detective  glanced  at  the  other  door,  but  said 
nothing  and  prepared  to  follow. 

"  I  will  stay  here,"  said  the  Baron,  settling  himself 
in  the  armchair  again. 

"  Oh,  no!  Pray  come,"  Malipieri  said.  "  I  should  like 
you  to  see  for  yourself  that  Sassi  was  not  hurt  here." 

Volterra  rose  reluctantly  and  went  with  the  rest. 
His  chief  preoccupation  was  to  get  rid  of  the  detec 
tive  and  his  men  as  quickly  as  possible.  Malipieri 
opened  the  doors  as  he  went  along,  and  showed  several 
empty  rooms,  before  he  came  to  Masin's. 

"  This  is  where  my  man  sleeps,"  he  said  carelessly. 

The  detective  went  in,  looked  about  and  suddenly 
pounced  upon  a  towel  on  which  there  were  stains  of 
blood. 

"  What  is  this  ?  "  he  asked  sharply.  "  What  is  the 
meaning  of  this  ?  " 

Malipieri  showed  his  scarred  hands. 

"After  I  got  out  of  the  vault,  I  washed  here,"  he 
said.  "  I  had  cut  my  hands  a  good  deal,  as  you  see. 
Of  course  the  blood  came  off  on  the  towels." 

The  detective  assumed  his  smile  of  professional 
cunning. 

"I  understand,"  he  said.  "But  do  you  generally 
wash  in  your  servant's  room  ?  " 

"  No.  It  happened  to  be  convenient  when  I  got  in. 
There  was  water  here,  and  there  were  towels." 


THE   HEART   OF    ROME  279 

"  It  is  strange,"  said  the  detective. 

Even  Volterra  looked  curiously  at  Malipieri,  for  he 
was  much  puzzled.  But  he  was  impatient,  too,  and 
came  to  the  rescue. 

"  Do  you  not  see,"  he  asked  of  the  detective,  "  that 
Signor  Malipieri  was  covered  with  dust  and  that  his 
clothes  were  very  wet  ?  There  they  are,  lying  on  the 
floor.  He  did  not  wish  to  go  to  his  bedroom  as  he 
was,  taking  all  that  dirt  and  dampness  with  him,  so 
he  came  here." 

"That  is  a  sufficient  explanation,  I  am  sure,"  said 
Malipieri. 

"Perfectly,  perfectly,"  answered  the  detective,  smil 
ing.  "  Wrap  up  those  towels  in  a  newspaper,"  he  said 
to  the  two  soldiers.  "We  will  take  them  with  us. 
You  see,"  he  continued  in  an  apologetic  tone,  "  we  are 
obliged  to  be  very  careful  in  the  execution  of  our  duties. 
If  Signor  Sassi  should  unfortunately  die  in  the  hospital, 
and  especially  if  he  should  die  unconscious,  the  matter 
would  become  very  serious,  and  I  should  be  blamed  if 
I  had  not  made  a  thorough  examination." 

"  I  hope  he  is  not  so  seriously  injured,"  said  Malipieri. 

"The  report  we  received  was  that  his  skull  was 
fractured,"  answered  the  detective  calmly.  "  The  hos 
pitals  report  all  suspicious  cases  to  the  police  stations 
by  telephone  during  the  night,  and  of  course,  as  your 
man  refused  to  speak,  special  enquiries  were  made 
about  the  wounded  gentleman." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Malipieri.  "  And  now,  I  sup 
pose,  you  have  made  a  sufficient  search." 


280  THE  HEART   OF   BOME 

"We  have  not  seen  your  own  room.  If  you  will 
show  me  that,  as  a  mere  formality,  I  think  I  need  not 
trouble  you  any  further." 

It  had  come  at  last.  Malipieri  felt  himself  growing 
cold,  and  said  nothing  for  a  moment.  Volterra  again 
began  to  watch  him  curiously. 

"  I  fancy,"  the  detective  said,  "  that  your  room  opens 
from  the  study  in  which  we  have  already  been.  I  only 
wish  to  look  in." 

"  There,  is  a  small  room  before  it,  where  I  keep  my 
clothes." 

"  I  suppose  we  can  go  through  the  small  room  ?  " 

"You  may  see  that,"  said  Malipieri,  "but  I  shall 
not  allow  you  to  go  into  my  bedroom." 

"  How  very  strange  !  "  cried  Volterra,  staring  at 
him. 

Then  the  fat  Baron  broke  into  a  laugh,  that  made 
his  watch-chain  dance  on  his  smooth  and  rotund 
speckled  waistcoat. 

"  I  see !     I  see  !  "  he  tried  to  say. 

The  detective  understood,  and  smiled  in  a  subdued 
way.  Malipieri  knit  his  brows  angrily,  as  he  felt  him 
self  becoming  more  and  more  utterly  powerless  to 
stave  off  the  frightful  catastrophe  that  threatened 
Sabina.  But  the  detective  was  anxious  to  make 
matters  pleasant  by  diplomatic  means. 

"I  had  not  been  told  that  Sign  or  Malipieri  was  a 
married  man,"  he  said.  "  Of  course,  if  the  Signora 
Malipieri  is  not  yet  visible,  I  shall  be  delighted  to 
give  her  time  to  dress." 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  281 

Malipieri  bit  his  lip  and  made  a  few  steps  up  and  down. 

"  I  did  not  know  that  your  wife  was  in  Rome,"  Vol- 
terra  said,  glancing  at  him,  and  apparently  confirming 
the  detective  in  his  mistake. 

"  For  that  matter,"  said  the  detective,  "  I  am  a 
married  man  myself,  and  if  the  lady  is  in  bed,  she 
might  allow  me  merely  to  stand  at  the  door,  and 
glance  in." 

"I  think  she  is  still  asleep,"  Malipieri  answered. 
"  I  do  not  like  to  disturb  her,  and  the  room  is  quite 
dark." 

"My  time  is  at  your  disposal,"  said  the  detective. 
"  Shall  we  go  back  and  wait  in  the  study  ?  You  would 
perhaps  be  so  kind  as  to  see  whether  the  Signora  is 
awake  or  not,  but  I  am  quite  ready  to  wait  till  she 
comes  out  of  her  room.  I  would  not  put  her  to  any 
inconvenience  for  the  world,  I  assure  you." 

"  Really,"  the  Baron  said  to  Malipieri,  "  I  think  you 
might  wake  her." 

The  soldiers  looked  on  stolidly,  the  porter  kept  his 
eyes  and  ears  open,  and  Gigi,  full  of  curiosity,  wore 
the  expression  of  a  smiling  weasel.  To  the  porter's 
knowledge,  so  far  as  it  went,  no  woman  but  his  own 
wife  had  entered  the  palace  since  Malipieri  had  been 
living  in  it. 

Malipieri  made  no  answer  to  Volterra's  last  speech, 
and  walked  up  and  down,  seeking  a  solution.  The 
least  possible  one  seemed  to  be  that  suggested  by  the 
Baron  himself.  The  latter,  though  now  very  curious, 
was  more  than  ever  in  a  hurry  to  bring  the  long  en- 


282  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

quiry  to  a  close.  It  occurred  to  him  that  it  would 
simplify  matters  if  he  and  Malipieri  and  the  detec 
tive  were  left  alone  together,  and  he  said  so,  urging 
that  as  there  was  unexpectedly  a  lady  in  the  case, 
the  presence  of  so  many  witnesses  should  be  avoided. 
Even  now  he  never  thought  of  the  possibility  that  the 
lady  in  question  might  be  Sabina. 

The  detective  now  yielded  the  point  willingly  enough, 
and  the  soldiers  were  sent  off  with  Gigi  and  the  porter 
to  wait  in  the  latter's  lodge.  It  was  a  slight  relief  to 
Malipieri  to  see  them  go.  He  and  his  two  companions 
went  back  to  the  study  together. 

The  Baron  resumed  his  seat  in  the  armchair;  he 
always  sat  down  when  he  had  time,  and  he  had  not 
yet  finished  his  big  cigar.  The  detective  went  to  the 
window  and  looked  out  through  the  panes,  as  if  to 
give  Malipieri  time  to  make  up  his  mind  what  to  do ; 
and  Malipieri  paced  the  floor  with  bent  head,  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  in  utter  desperation.  At  any  moment 
Sabina  might  appear,  yet  he  dared  not  even  go  to  her 
door,  lest  the  two  men  should  follow  him. 

But  at  least  he  could  prevent  her  from  coming  in, 
for  he  could  lock  the  entrance  to  the  small  room.  As 
he  reached  the  end  of  his  walk  he  turned  the  key  and 
put  it  into  his  pocket.  The  detective  turned  round 
sharply  and  Vol terra  moved  his  head  at  the  sound. 

"Why  do  you  do  that?"  he  asked,  in  a  tone  of 
annoyance. 

"  Because  no  one  shall  go  in,  while  I  have  the  key," 
Malipieri  answered. 


THE   HEART   OF  ROME  283 

"  I  must  go  in,  sooner  or  later,"  said  the  detective. 
"I  can  wait  all  day,  and  all  night,  if  you  please, 
for  I  shall  not  use  force  where  a  lady  is  concerned. 
But  I  must  see  that  room." 

Like  all  such  men,  he  was  obstinate,  when  he 
believed  that  he  was  doing  his  duty.  Malipieri 
looked  from  him  to  Volterra,  and  back  again,  and 
suddenly  made  up  his  mind.  He  preferred  the  detec 
tive,  of  the  two,  if  he  must  trust  any  one,  the  more 
so  as  the  latter  probably  did  not  know  Sabina  by 
sight. 

"If  you  will  be  so  kind  as  to  stay  there,  in  that 
armchair,"  he  said  to  Volterra,  "I  will  see  what 
I  can  do  to  hasten  matters.  Will  you?" 

"Certainly.  I  am  very  comfortable  here."  The 
Baron  laughed  a  little. 

"Then,"  said  Malipieri,  turning  to  the  detective, 
"kindly  come  with  me,  and  I  will  explain  as  far 
as  I  can." 

He  took  the  key  from  his  pocket  again,  and  opened 
the  door  of  the  small  room,  let  in  the  detective  and 
shut  it  after  him  without  locking  it.  He  had  hardly 
made  up  his  mind  what  to  say,  but  he  knew  what 
he  wished. 

"This  is  a  very  delicate  affair,"  he  began  in  a 
whisper.  "  I  will  see  whether  the  lady  is  awake." 

He  went  to  the  door  of  the  bedroom  on  tiptoe 
and  listened.  Not  a  sound  reached  him.  The  room 
was  quite  out  of  hearing  of  the  rest  of  the  apart 
ment,  and  Sabina,  accustomed  as  she  was  to  sleep 


284  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

eight  hours  without  waking,  was  still  resting  peace 
fully.  Malipieri  came  back  noiselessly. 

"She  is  asleep,"  he  whispered.  "Will  you  not 
take  my  word  for  it  that  there  is  nothing  to  be  found 
in  the  room  which  can  have  the  least  connection  with 
Sassi's  accident?" 

The  detective  shook  his  head  gravely,  and  raised 
his  eyebrows,  while  he  shut  his  eyes,  as  some  men  do 
when  they  mean  that  nothing  can  convince  them. 

"  I  advise  you  to  go  in  and  wake  your  wife,"  he 
whispered,  still  very  politely.  "She  can  wrap  her 
self  up  and  sit  in  a  chair  while  I  look  in." 

"That  is  impossible.  I  cannot  go  in  and  wake 
her." 

The  detective  looked  surprised,  and  was  silent  for 
a  moment. 

"  This  is  a  very  strange  situation,"  he  muttered.  "  A 
man  who  dares  not  go  into  his  wife's  room  when  she 
is  asleep  —  I  do  not  understand." 

"I  cannot  explain,"  answered  Malipieri,  "but  it  is 
altogether  impossible.  I  ask  you  to  believe  me,  on  my 
oath,  that  you  will  find  nothing  in  the  room." 

"I  have  already  told  you,  sir,  that  I  must  fulfil 
the  formalities,  whatever  I  may  wish  to  believe.  And 
it  is  my  firm  belief  that  Sign  or  Sassi  came  by  the 
injuries  of  which  he  may  possibly  die,  somewhere  in 
this  apartment,  yesterday  afternoon.  My  reputation 
is  at  stake,  and  I  am  a  government  servant.  To 
oblige  you,  I  will  wait  an  hour,  but  if  the  lady  is  not 
awake  then,  I  shall  go  and  knock  at  that  door  and 


THE   HEART   OF  ROME  285 

call  until  she  answers.  It  would  be  simpler  if  you 
would  do  it  yourself.  That  is  all,  and  you  must  take 
your  choice." 

Malipieri  saw  that  he  must  wake  Sabina,  and  explain 
to  her  through  the  door  that  she  must  dress.  He 
reflected  a  moment,  and  was  about  to  ask  the  detec 
tive  to  go  back  to  the  study,  when  a  sound  of  voices 
came  from  that  direction,  and  one  was  a  woman's. 

"  It  seems  that  there  is  another  lady  in  the  house," 
said  the  detective.  "Perhaps  she  can  help  us.  Surely 
you  will  allow  a  lady  to  enter  your  wife's  room  and 
wake  her." 

But  Malipieri  was  speechless  at  that  moment  and 
was  leaning  stupidly  against  the  jamb  of  the  study 
door.  He  had  recognized  the  voice  of  the  Baroness 
talking  excitedly  with  her  husband.  Fate  had  caught 
him  now,  and  there  was  no  escape.  Instinctively,  he 
was  sure  that  the  Baroness  had  come  in  search  of 
Sabina,  and  would  not  leave  the  house  till  she  had 
found  her,  do  what  he  might. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  Baroness  had  been  called  to  the  telephone  five 
minutes  after  Volterra  had  gone  out  with  the  porter, 
leaving  word  that  he  was  going  to  the  Palazzo  Conti 
and  would  be  back  within  two  hours.  The  message 
she  received  was  from  the  Russian  Embassy,  and  in 
formed  her  that  the  dowager  Princess  Conti  had 
arrived  at  midnight,  was  the  guest  of  the  Ambassa 
dor,  and  wished  her  daughter  Sabina  to  come  and  see 
her  between  eleven  and  twelve  o'clock.  In  trembling 
tones  the  Baroness  had  succeeded  in  saying  that  Sabina 
should  obey,  and  had  rung  off  the  connection  at  once. 
Then,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  she  had  felt  for  a 
moment  as  if  she  were  going  to  faint. 

The  facts,  which  were  unknown  to  her,  were  simple 
enough.  The  Ambassador  had  been  informed  that  a 
treasure  had  been  discovered,  and  had  telegraphed  the 
fact  in  cipher  to  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  in 
St.  Petersburg,  who  had  telegraphed  the  news  to 
Prince  Rubomirska,  who  had  telegraphed  to  the  Am 
bassador,  who  was  his  intimate  friend,  requesting  him 
to  receive  the  Princess  for  a  few  days.  As  the  Prince 
and  his  sister  were  already  in  the  country,  in  Poland, 
not  far  from  the  Austrian  frontier,  it  had  not  taken 
her  long  to  reach  Rome.  Of  all  this,  the  poor  Baroness 

286 


THE  HEART   OF   HOME  287 

was  in  ignorance.  The  one  fact  stared  her  in  the  face, 
that  the  Princess  had  come  to  claim  Sabina,  and  Sabina 
had  disappeared. 

She  had  learned  that  the  porter  had  come  to  say 
that  the  cellars  of  the  Palazzo  Conti  were  flooded,  and 
she  knew  that  her  husband  would  be  there  some  time. 
She  found  Sassi's  card,  on  which  his  address  was 
printed,  and  she  drove  there  in  a  cab,  climbed  the 
stairs  and  rang  the  bell.  The  old  woman  who  opened 
was  in  terrible  trouble,  and  was  just  going  out.  She 
showed  the  Baroness  the  news  of  Sassi's  mysterious 
accident  shortly  given  in  a  paragraph  of  the  Messag- 
gero,  the  little  morning  paper  which  is  universally 
read  greedily  by  the  lower  classes.  She  was  just  going 
to  the  accident  hospital,  the  "  Consolazione,"  to  see  her 
poor  master.  He  had  gone  out  at  half  past  four  on 
the  previous  afternoon,  and  she  had  sat  up  all  night, 
hoping  that  he  would  come  in.  She  was  quite  sure 
that  he  had  not  returned  at  all  after  he  had  gone  out. 
She  was  quite  sure,  too,  that  he  had  been  knocked 
down  and  robbed,  for  he  had  a  gold  watch  and  chain, 
and  always  carried  money  in  his  pocket. 

The  Baroness  looked  at  her,  and  saw  that  she  was 
speaking  the  truth  and  was  in  real  distress.  It  would 
be  quite  useless  to  search  the  rooms  for  Sabina.  The 
old  woman-servant  had  no  idea  who  the  Baroness  was, 
and  in  her  sudden  trouble  would  certainly  have  con 
fided  to  her  that  there  was  a  young  lady  in  the  house, 
who  had  not  been  able  to  get  home. 

"  For  the  love  of  heaven,  Signora,"  she  cried,  "  come 


288  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

with  me  to  the  hospital,  if  you  know  him,  for  he  may 
be  dying." 

The  Baroness  promised  to  go  later,  and  really  in 
tended  to  do  so.  She  drove  to  the  convent  in  which 
Donna  Clementina  was  now  a  cloistered  nun,  and  asked 
the  portress  whether  Donna  Sabina  Conti  had  been  to 
see  her  sister  on  the  previous  day.  The  portress  an 
swered  that  she  had  not,  and  was  quite  positive  of  the 
fact.  The  Baroness  looked  at  her  watch  and  hastened 
to  the  Palazzo  Conti.  When  she  got  there,  the  porter 
had  already  returned  to  his  lodge,  and  he  led  her  up 
stairs  and  to  the  door  of  the  study. 

Finding  her  husband  alone,  she  explained  what  was 
the  matter,  in  a  few  words  and  in  a  low  voice.  The 
Princess  had  come  back,  and  wished  to  see  Sabina  that 
very  morning,  and  Sabina  could  not  be  found.  She 
sank  into  a  chair,  and  her  sallow  face  expressed  the 
utmost  fright  and  perplexity. 

"Sassi  left  our  house  at  five  o'clock  with  Sabina," 
said  the  Baron,  "  and  at  a  quarter  to  six  he  was  taken 
from  the  door  of  this  palace  to  the  hospital  by  Mali- 
pieri's  man.  Either  Malipieri  or  his  man  must  have 
seen  her." 

"  She  is  here  !  "  cried  the  Baroness  in  a  loud  tone, 
something  of  the  truth  flashing  upon  her.  "I  know 
she  is  here  !  " 

Volterra's  mind  worked  rapidly  at  the  possibility, 
as  at  a  problem.  If  his  wife  were  not  mistaken  it  was 
easy  to  explain  Malipieri's  flat  refusal  to  let  any  one 
enter  the  bedroom.  - 


THE  HEART   OF   HOME  289 

"  You  may  be  right,"  he  said,  rising.  "  If  she  is  in 
the  palace  she  is  in  the  room  beyond  that  one."  He 
pointed  to  the  door.  "You  must  go  in,"  he  said. 
"Never  mind  Malipieri.  I  will  manage  him." 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened.  Malipieri  had 
recovered  his  senses  enough  to  attempt  a  final  resist 
ance,  and  stood  there,  very  pale,  ready  for  anything. 

But  the  fat  Baron  knew  what  he  was  about,  and  as 
he  came  forward  with  his  wife  he  suddenly  thrust  out 
his  hand  at  Malipieri's  head,  and  the  latter  saw  down 
the  barrel  of  Volterra's  revolver. 

"  You  must  let  my  wife  pass,"  cried  Volterra  coolly, 
"or  I  will  shoot  you." 

Malipieri  was  as  active  as  a  sailor.  In  an  instant 
he  had  hurled  himself,  bending  low,  at  the  Baron's 
knees,  and  the  fat  man  fell  over  him,  while  the  re 
volver  flew  from  his  hand,  half  across  the  room,  for 
tunately  not  going  off  as  it  fell  on  its  side.  While 
Malipieri  was  struggling  to  get  the  upper  hand,  the 
detective  ran  forward  and  helped  Volterra.  The  two 
threw  themselves  upon  the  younger  man,  and  between 
the  detective's  wiry  strength  and  the  Baron's  tremen 
dous  weight,  he  lay  panting  and  powerless  on  his  back 
for  an  instant. 

The  Baroness  had  possibly  assisted  at  some  scenes 
of  violence  in  the  course  of  her  husband's  checkered 
career.  At  all  events,  she  did  not  stop  to  see  what 
happened  after  the  way  was  clear,  but  ran  to  the  door 
of  the  bedroom,  and  threw  it  wide  open,  for  it  was  not 
locked.  The  light  that  entered  showed  her  where  the 


290  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

window  was ;  she  opened  it  in  an  instant,  and  looked 
round. 

Sabina  was  sitting  up  in  bed,  staring  at  her  with  a 
dazed  expression,  her  hair  in  wild  confusion  round 
her  pale  face  and  falling  over  her  bare  neck.  Her 
clothes  lay  in  a  heap  on  the  floor,  beside  the  bed. 
Never  was  any  woman  more  fairly  caught  in  a  situa 
tion  impossible  to  explain.  Even  in  that  first  moment, 
she  felt  it,  when  she  looked  at  the  Baroness's  face. 

The  latter  did  not  speak,  for  she  was  utterly  inca 
pable  of  finding  words.  The  sound  of  a  scuffle  could 
be  heard  from  the  study  in  the  distance  ;  she  quietly 
shut  the  door  and  turned  the  key.  Then  she  came  and 
stood  by  the  bed,  facing  the  window.  Sabina  had  sunk 
back  upon  the  pillows,  but  her  eyes  looked  up  bravely 
and  steadily.  Of  the  two  she  was  certainly  the  one 
less  disturbed,  even  then,  for  she  remembered  that 
Malipieri  had  meant  to  go  and  tell  the  Baroness  the 
whole  truth,  early  in  the  morning.  He  had  done  so, 
of  course,  and  the  Baroness  had  come  to  take  her  back, 
very  angry  of  course,  but  that  was  all.  This  was  what 
Sabina  told  herself,  but  she  guessed  that  matters  would 
turn  out  much  worse. 

"  Did  he  tell  you  how  it  happened  that  I  could  not 
get  home  ?  "  she  asked,  almost  calmly. 

"No  one  has  told  me  anything.  Your  mother 
arrived  in  Rome  last  night.  She  is  at  the  Russian 
Embassy  and  wishes  to  see  you  at  eleven  o'clock." 

"  My  mother  ?  "  Sabina  raised  herself  on  one  hand 
in  surprise. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  291 

"  Yes.     And  I  find  you  here." 

The  Baroness  folded  her  arms  like  a  man,  her  brows 
contracted,  and  her  face  was  almost  livid. 

"  Have  you  the  face  to  meet  your  mother,  after 
this  ?  "  she  asked  sternly. 

"  Yes  —  of  course,"  answered  Sabina.  "  But  I  must 
go  home  and  dress.  My  frock  is  ruined." 

"You  are  a  brazen  creature,"  said  the  Baroness  in 
disgust  and  anger.  "  You  do  not  seem  to  know  what 
shame  means." 

Sabina's  deep  young  eyes  flashed  ;  it  was  not  safe 
to  say  such  things  to  her. 

"I  have  done  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of,"  she  an 
swered  proudly,  "  and  you  shall  not  speak  to  me  like 
that.  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Nothing  to  be  ashamed  of  !  "  The  Baroness  stared 
at  her  in  genuine  amazement.  "  Nothing  to  be  ashamed 
of  !  "  she  repeated,  and  her  voice  shook  with  emotion. 
"You  leave  my  house  by  stealth,  you  let  no  one 
know  where  you  are  going,  and  the  next  morning  I 
find  you  here,  in  your  lover's  house,  in  your  lover's 
room,  the  door  not  even  locked,  your  head  upon  your 
lover's  pillow  !  Nothing  to  be  ashamed  of  !  Merciful 
heavens  !  And  you  have  not  only  ruined  yourself,  but 
you  have  done  an  'irreparable  injury  to  honest  people 
who  took  you  in  when  you  were  starving  ! " 

The  poor  woman  paused  for  breath,  and  in  her 
horror,  she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands.  She  had  her 
faults,  no  doubt,  and  she  knew  that  the  world  was- 
bad,  but  she  had  never  dreamt  of  such  barefaced  and 


292  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

utterly  monstrous  cynicism  as  Sabina's.  If  the  girl 
had  been  overcome  with  shame  and  repentance,  and 
had  broken  down  entirely,  imploring  help  and  for 
giveness,  as  would  have  seemed  natural,  the  Baroness, 
for  her  own  social  sake,  might  have  been  at  last 
moved  to  help  her  out  of  her  trouble.  Instead,  being 
a  person  of  rigid  virtue  and  judging  the  situation  in 
the  only  way  really  possible  for  her  to  see  it,  she 
was  both  disgusted  and  horrified.  It  was  no  wonder. 
But  she  was  not  prepared  for  Sabina's  answer. 

"  If  I  were  strong  enough,  I  would  kill  you,"  said 
the  young  girl,  quietly  laying  her  head  on  the  pillow 
again. 

The  Baroness  laughed  hysterically.  She  felt  as 
if  she  were  in  the  presence  of  the  devil  himself. 
She  was  not  at  all  a  hysterical  woman  nor  often 
given  to  dramatic  exhibitions  of  feeling,  but  she 
had  never  dreamt  that  a  human  being  could  behave 
with  such  horribly  brazen  shamelessness. 

For  some  moments  there  was  silence.  Then  Sabina 
spoke,  in  a  quietly  scornful  tone,  while  the  Baroness 
turned  her  back  on  her  and  stood  quite  still,  looking 
out  of  the  window. 

"I  suppose  you  have  a  right  to  be  surprised," 
Sabina  said,  "  but  you  have  no  right  to  insult  me 
and  say  things  that  are  not  true.  Perhaps  Signer 
Malipieri  likes  me  very  much.  I  do  not  know.  He 
has  never  told  me  he  loved  me." 

The  Baroness's  large  figure  shook  with  fury,  but 
she  did  not  turn  round.  What  more  was  the  girl 


THE   HEART   OF   BOME  293 

going  to  say?  That  she  did  not  even  care  a  little 
for  the  man  with  whom  she  had  ruined  herself?  Yes. 
That  was  what  she  was  going  on  to  explain.  It  was 
beyond  belief. 

"  I  have  only  seen  him  a  few  times,"  Sabina  said. 
"I  daresay  I  shall  be  very  fond  of  him  if  I  see  him 
often.  I  think  he  is  very  like  my  ideal  of  what  a 
man  should  be." 

The  Baroness  turned  her  face  half  round  with  an 
expression  that  was  positively  savage.  But  she  said 
nothing,  and  again  looked  through  the  panes.  She 
remembered  afterwards  that  the  room  smelt  slightly 
of  stale  cigar  smoke,  soap  and  leather. 

"  He  wished  rne  to  see  the  things  he  has  found 
before  any  one  else  should,"  Sabina  continued.  "  So 
he  got  Sassi  to  bring  me  here.  While  we  were  in 
the  vaults,  the  water  came,  and  we  could  not  get 
out.  He  worked  for  hours  to  break  a  hole,  and  it 
was  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  we  were  free. 
I  had  not  had  any  dinner,  and  of  course  I  could  not 
go  with  him  to  your  house  at  that  hour,  even  if  I 
had  not  been  worn  out.  So  he  brought  me  here 
and  gave  me  something  to  eat,  and  his  room  to 
sleep  in.  As  for  the  door  not  being  locked,  he  told 
me  twice  to  lock  it,  and  I  was  so  sleepy  that  I  for 
got  to.  That  is  what  happened." 

After  an  ominous  silence,  the  Baroness  turned  round. 
Her  face  was  almost  yellow  now. 

"I  do  not  believe  a  word  you  have  told  me,"  she 
said,  half  choking. 


294  THE    HEAKT    OF   KOME 

"  Then  go !  "  cried  Sabina,  sitting  up  with  flashing 
eyes.  "  I  do  not  care  a  straw  whether  you  believe 
the  truth  or  not !  Go !  Go  !  " 

She  stretched  out  one  straight  white  arm  and 
pointed  to  the  door,  in  wrath.  The  Baroness  looked 
at  her,  and  stood  still  a  moment.  Then  she  shrugged 
her  shoulders  in  a  manner  anything  but  aristocratic, 
and  left  the  room  without  deigning  to  turn  her  head. 
The  instant  she  was  gone  Sabina  sprang  out  of  bed 
and  locked  the  door  after  her. 

Meanwhile,  the  struggle  between  Malipieri  and  his 
two  adversaries  had  come  to  an  end  very  soon.  Mali 
pieri  had  not  really  expected  to  prevent  the  Baroness 
from  going  to  Sabina,  but  he  had  wished  to  try  and  ex 
plain  matters  to  her  before  she  went.  He  had  upset 
Volterra,  because  the  latter  had  pointed  a  revolver  at 
his  head,  which  will  seem  a  sufficient  reason  to  most 
hot-tempered  men.  The  detective  had  suggested  put 
ting  handcuffs  on  him,  while  they  held  him  down,  but 
Volterra  was  anxious  to  settle  matters  amicably, 

"  It  was  my  fault,"  he  said,  drawing  back,  "  I  thought 
that  you  were  going  to  resist,  and  I  pulled  out  my  pis 
tol  too  soon.  I  offer  you  all  my  apologies." 

He  had  got  to  his  feet  with  more  alacrity  than  might 
have  been  expected  of  such  a  fat  man,  and  was  adjust 
ing  his  collar  and  tie,  and  smoothing  his  waistcoat  over 
his  rotundity.  Malipieri  had  risen  the  moment  he  was 
free.  The  detective  looked  as  if  nothing  had  happened 
out  of  the  common  way,  and  the  neatness  of  his  appear 
ance  was  not  in  the  least  disturbed. 


THE  HEART   OF   ROME  295 

"  I  offer  you  my  apologies,  Signor  Malipieri,"  repeated 
the  Baron  cordially  and  smiling  in  a  friendly  way.  "  I 
should  not  have  drawn  my  pistol  on  you.  I  presume 
you  will  accept  the  excuses  I  make  ?  " 

"  Do  not  mention  the  matter,"  answered  Malipieri  with 
coolness,  but  civilly  enough,  seeing  that  there  was 
nothing  else  to  be  done.  "  I  trust  you  are  none  the 
worse  for  your  fall." 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all,"  replied  Volterra.  "  I  hope,"  he 
said,  turning  to  the  detective,  "  that  you  will  say  nothing 
about  this  incident,  since  no  harm  has  been  done.  It 
concerns  a  private  matter,  —  I  may  almost  say,  a  family 
matter.  I  have  some  little  influence,  and  if  I  can  be  of 
any  use  to  you,  I  shall  always  be  most  happy." 

The  gratitude  of  so  important  a  personage  was  not  to 
be  despised,  as  the  detective  knew.  He  produced  a  card 
bearing  his  name,  and  handed  it  to  the  Senator  with  a 
bow. 

"  Always  at  your  service,  sir,"  he  said.  "  It  is  very 
fortunate  that  the  revolver  did  not  go  off  and  hurt  one 
of  us,"  he  added,  picking  up  the  weapon  and  handing  it 
to  Volterra.  "  I  have  noticed  that  these  things  almost 
invariably  kill  the  wrong  person,  when  they  kill  any 
body  at  all,  which  is  rare." 

Volterra  smiled,  thanked  him  and  returned  the  re 
volver  to  his  pocket.  Malipieri  had  watched  the  two  in 
silence.  Fate  had  taken  matters  out  of  his  hands,  and 
there  was  absolutely  nothing  to  be  done.  In  due  time, 
Sabina  would  come  out  with  the  Baroness,  but  he  could 
not  guess  what  would  happen  then.  Volterra  would 


296  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

probably  not  speak  out  before  the  detective,  who  would 
not  recognize  Sabina,  even  if  he  knew  her  by  sight. 
The  Baroness  would  take  care  that  he  should  not  see 
the  girl's  face,  as  both  Volterra  and  Malipieri  knew. 

The  three  men  sat  down  and  waited  in  silence  after 
the  detective  had  last  spoken.  Volterra  lit  a  fresh 
cigar,  and  offered  one  to  the  detective  a  few  moments 
later.  The  latter  -took  it  with  a  bow  and  put  it  into 
his  pocket  for  a  future  occasion. 

The  door  opened  at  last,  and  the  Baroness  entered, 
her  face  discoloured  to  a  blotchy  yellowness  by  her 
suppressed  anger.  She  stood  still  a  moment  after  she 
had  come  in,  and  glared  at  Malipieri.  He  and  the 
detective  rose,  but  Volterra  kept  his  seat. 

"  Were  you  right,  my  dear  ?  "  the  latter  enquired, 
looking  at  her. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  in  a  thick  voice,  turning  to  him 
for  an  instant,  and  then  glaring  at  Malipieri  again,  as 
if  she  could  hardly  keep  her  hands  from  him  in  her 
righteous  anger. 

He  saw  clearly  enough  that  she  had  not  believed  the 
strange  story  which  Sabina  must  have  told  her,  and 
he  wondered  whether  any  earthly  power  could  possibl}* 
make  her  believe  it  in  spite  of  herself.  During  the 
moments  of  silence  that  followed,  the  whole  situation 
rose  before  him,  in  the  only  light  under  which  it  could 
at  first  appear  to  any  ordinary  person.  It  was  frightful  to 
think  that  what  had  been  a  bit  of  romantic  quixotism 
on  his  part,  in  wishing  Sabina  to  see  the  statues  which 
should  have  been  hers,  should  end  in  her  social  dis- 


THE   HEART   OF   KOME  297 

grace,  perhaps  in  her  utter  ruin  if  the  Baroness  and  her 
husband  could  not  be  mollified.  He  did  not  know 
that  there  was  one  point  in  Sabina's  favour,  in  the 
shape  of  the  Princess's  sudden  return  to  Rome,  though 
he  guessed  the  Baroness's  character  well  enough  to 
have  foreseen,  had  he  known  of  the  new  complica 
tion,  that  she  would  swallow  her  pride  and  even  over 
look  Sabina's  supposed  misdeeds,  rather  than  allow  the 
Princess  to  accuse  her  of  betraying  her  trust  and  let 
ting  the  young  girl  ruin  herself. 

"  I  must  consult  with  you,"  the  Baroness  said  to  her 
husband,  controlling  herself  as  she  came  forward  into 
the  room  and  passed  Malipieri.  "  We  cannot  talk 
here,"  she  added,  glancing  at  the  detective. 

"  This  gentleman,"  said  Volterra,  waving  his  hand 
towards  the  latter,  "  is  here  officially,  to  make  an  en 
quiry  about  Sassi's  accident." 

"  I  shall  be  happy  to  wait  outside  if  you  have  private 
matters  to  discuss,"  said  the  detective,  who  wished  to 
show  himself  worthy  of  the  Baron's  favour,  if  he  could 
do  so  without  neglecting  his  duties. 

"  You  are  extremely  obliging,"  Volterra  said,  in  a 
friendly  tone. 

The  detective  smiled,  bowed  and  left  the  room  by 
the  door  leading  towards  the  hall. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  the  Baroness  said,  still  suppressing 
her  anger,  as  she  turned  her  face  a  little  towards  Mali 
pieri  and  spoke  at  him  over  her  shoulder,  "  it  seems  to 
me  that  you  might  go  too." 

It  was  not  for  Malipieri  to  resent  her  tone  or  words 


298  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

just  then,  and  he  knew  it,  though  he  hated  her  for  be 
lieving  the  evidence  of  her  senses  rather  than  Sabina's 
story.  He  made  a  step  towards  the  door. 

"  No,"  Volterra  said,  without  rising,  "  I  think  he  had 
better  stay,  and  hear  what  we  have  to  say  about  this. 
After  all,  the  responsibility  for  what  has  happened  falls 
upon  him." 

"  I  should  think  it  did  !  "  cried  the  Baroness,  break 
ing  out  at  last,  in  harsh  tones.  "  You  abominable  villain, 
you  monster  of  iniquity,  you  snake,  you  viper  —  " 

"  Hush,  hush,  my  dear !  "  interposed  the  Baron,  real 
izing  vaguely  that  his  wife's  justifiable  excitement  was 
showing  itself  in  unjustifiably  vulgar  vituperation. 

"  You  toad  !  "  yelled  the  Baroness,  shaking  her  fist 
in  Malipieri's  face.  "  You  reptile,  you  accursed  ruffian, 
you  false,  black-hearted,  lying  son  of  Satan  !  " 

She  gasped  for  breath,  and  her  whole  frame  quivered 
with  fury,  while  her  livid  lips  twisted  themselves  to 
hiss  out  the  epithets  of  abuse.    Volterra  feared  lest  she 
should  fall  down  in  an  apoplexy,  and  he  rose  from  his 
seat  quickly.     He  gathered  her  to  his  corpulent  side 
with  one  arm  and  made  her  turn  away  towards  the  win 
dow,  which  he  opened  with  his  free  hand. 
/     "I  should  be  all  that,  and  worse,  if  a  tenth  of  what 
j  you  believe  were  true,"  Malipieri  said,  coming  nearer 
and  then  standing  still. 

He  was  very  pale,  and  he  was  conscious  of  a  cowardly 
wish  that  Volterra's  revolver  might  have  killed  him  ten 
minutes  earlier.  But  he  was  ashamed  of  the  mere 
thought  when  he  remembered  what  Sabina  would  have 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  299 

to  face.  Volterra,  while  holding  his  wife  firmly  against 
the  window  sill,  to  force  her  to  breathe  the  outer  air, 
turned  his  head  towards  Malipieri. 

"  She  is  quite  beside  herself,  you  see,"  he  said 
apologetically. 

The  Baroness  was  a  strong  woman,  and  after  the  first 
explosion  of  her  fury  she  regained  enough  self-control 
to  speak  connectedly.  She  turned  round,  in  spite  of 
the  pressure  of  her  husband's  arm. 

"  He  is  not  even  ashamed  of  what  he  has  done !  "  she 
said.  "  He  stands  there  —  " 

The  Baron  interrupted  her,  fearing  another  outburst. 

"Let  me  speak,"  he  said  in  the  tone  she  could  not 
help  obeying.  "  What  explanation  have  you  to  offer 
of  Donna  Sabina's  presence  here?"  he  asked. 

As  he  put  the  question,  he  nodded  significantly  to 
Malipieri,  over  his  wife's  shoulder,  evidently  to  make 
the  latter  understand  that  he  must  at  least  invent  some 
excuse  if  he  had  none  ready.  The  Baron  did  not  care 
a  straw  what  became  of  him,  or  of  Sabina,  and  wished 
them  both  out  of  his  way  for  ever,  but  he  had  always 
avoided  scandal,  and  was  especially  anxious  to  avoid  it 
now. 

Malipieri  resented  the  hint  much  more  than  the 
Baroness's  anger,  but  he  was  far  too  much  in  the 
wrong,  innocent  though  he  was,  to  show  his  resentment. 

He  told  his  story  firmly  and  coolly,  and  it  agreed 
exactly  with  Sabina's. 

"  That  is  exactly  what  happened  last  night,"  he  con 
cluded.  "  If  you  will  go  down,  you  will  find  the  breach 


300  THE   HBAKT   OF   ROME 

I  made,  and  the  first  vaults  full  of  water.  I  have 
nothing  more  to  say." 

"  You  taught  her  the  lesson  admirably,"  said  the 
Baroness  with  withering  scorn.  "  She  told  me  the  same 
story  almost  word  for  word  ! " 

"  Madam,"  Malipieri  answered,  "  I  give  you  my  word 
of  honour  that  it  is  true." 

"  My  dear,"  Volterra  said,  speaking  to  his  wife,  "  when 
a  gentleman  gives  his  word  of  honour,  you  are  bound  to 
accept  it." 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  Malipieri. 

"Any  man  would  perjure  himself  for  a  woman,"  re 
torted  the  Baroness  with  contempt. 

"  No,  my  dear,"  the  Baron  objected,  trying  to  mollify 
her.  "  Perjury  is  a  crime,  you  know." 

"  And  what  he  has  done  is  a  much  worse  crime  !  "  she 
cried. 

"  I  have  not  committedany  crime,"  Malipieri  answered. 
"  I  would  give  all  I  possess,  and  my  life,  to  undo  what 
has  happened,  but  I  have  neither  said  nor  done  anything 
to  be  ashamed  of.  For  Donna  Sabina's  sake,  you  must 
accept  my  explanation.  In  time  you  will  believe  it." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  urged  Volterra,  "  I  am  sure  you  will,  my 
dear.  In  any  case  you  must  accept  it  as  the  only  one. 
I  will  go  downstairs  with  Signor  Malipieri  and  we  will 
take  the  porter  to  the  cellars.  Then  you  can  go  out 
with  Sabina,  and  if  you  are  careful  no  one  will  ever 
know  that  she  has  been  here." 

"  And  do  you  mean  to  let  her  live  under  your  roof 
after  this  ?  "  asked  the  Baroness  indignantly. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  301 

"  Her  mother  is  now  in  Rome,"  answered  Volterra 
readily.  "  When  she  is  dressed,  you  will  take  her  to  the 
Princess,  and  you  will  say  that  as  we  are  going  away, 
we  are  reluctantly  obliged  to  decline  the  responsibility 
of  keeping  the  young  girl  with  us  any  longer.  That  is 
what  you  will  do." 

"  I  am  glad  you  admit  at  least  that  she  cannot  live 
with  us  any  longer,"  the  Baroness  answered.  "  I  am 
sure  I  have  no  wish  to  ruin  the  poor  girl,  who  has  been 
this  man's  unhappy  victim  —  " 

44  Hush,  hush  !  "  interposed  Volterra.  "  You  must 
really  accept  the  explanation  he  has  given." 

"  For  decency's  sake,  you  may,  and  I  shall  have  to  pre 
tend  that  I  do.  At  least,"  she  continued,  turning 
coldly  to  Malipieri,  "  you  will  make  such  reparation  as 
is  in  your  power." 

"  I  will  do  anything  I  can,"  answered  Malipieri  gravely. 

"  You  will  marry  her  as  soon  as  possible,"  the  Baron 
ess  said  with  frigid  severity.  "  It  is  the  only  thing  you 
can  do." 

Malipieri  was  silent.  The  Baron  looked  at  him,  and 
a  disagreeable  smile  passed  over  his  fat  features.  But 
at  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and  Sabina  entered. 
Without  the  least  hesitation  she  came  forward  to 
Malipieri,  frankly  holding  out  her  hand. 

"  Good  morning,"  she  said.  "  Before  I  go,  I  wish  to 
thank  you  again  for  saving  my  life,  and  for  taking  care 
of  me  here." 

He  held  her  hand  a  moment. 

44 1  ask  your  pardon,  with  all  my  heart,  for  having 


302  THE   HE  ART*  OF   ROME 

brought  you  into  danger  and  trouble,"  he  an 
swered. 

"  It  was  not  your  fault,"  she  said.  "  It  was  nobody's 
fault,  and  I  am  glad  I  saw  the  statues  before  any  one 
else.  You  told  me  last  night  that  you  were  probably 
going  away.  If  we  never  meet  again,  I  wish  you  to 
remember  that  you  are  not  to  reproach  yourself  for 
anything  that  may  happen  to  me.  You  might,  you 
know.  Will  you  remember  ?  " 

She  spoke  quite  naturally  and  without  the  least  fear 
of  Volterra  and  his  wife,  who  looked  on  and  listened 
in  dumb  surprise  at  her  self-possession.  She  meant 
every  word  she  said,  and  more  too,  but  she  had  thought 
out  the  little  speech  while  she  was  dressing,  for  she 
had  guessed  what  must  be  happening  in  the  study. 
Malipieri  fixed  his  eyes  on  hers  gratefully,  but  did 
not  find  an  answer  at  once. 

"  Will  you  remember  ?  "  she  repeated. 

"I  shall  never  forget,"  he  answered,  not  quite 
steadily. 

By  one  of  those  miracles  which  are  the  birthright 
of  certain  women,  she  had  made  her  dress  look  almost 
fresh  again.  The  fawn-coloured  hat  was  restored  to 
its  shape,  or  nearly.  The  mud  that  had  soiled  her 
skirt  had  dried  and  she  had  brushed  it  away,  though 
it  had  left  faint  spots  on  the  cloth,  here  and  there  ; 
pins  hid  the  little  rents  so  cleverly  that  only  a  woman's 
eye  could  have  detected  anything  wrong,  and  the 
russet  shoes  were  tolerably  presentable.  The  Baroness 
saw  traces  of  the  adventure  to  which  the  costume  had 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  303 

been  exposed,  but  Volterra  smiled  and  was  less  in 
clined  than  ever  to  believe  the  story  which  both  had 
told,  though  he  did  not  say  so. 

"  My  wife  and  I,"  he  said  cordially,  "  quite  under 
stand  what  has  happened,  and  no  one  shall  ever  know 
about  it,  unless  you  speak  of  it  yourself.  She  will  go 
home  with  you  now,  and  will  then  take  you  to  the  Rus 
sian  Embassy  to  see  your  mother." 

Sabina  looked  at  him  in  surprise,  for  she  had  ex 
pected  a  disagreeable  scene.  Then  she  glanced  at  the 
Baroness's  sallow  and  angry  face,  and  she  partly  under 
stood  the  position. 

"Thank  you,"  she  said  proudly,  "but  if  you  do 
not  mind,  I  will  go  to  my  mother  directly.  You  will 
perhaps  be  so  kind  as  to  have  my  things  sent  to  the 
Embassy,  or  my  mother's  maid  will  come  and  get 
them." 

"  You  cannot  go  looking  like  that,"  said  the  Baroness 
severely. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  Volterra  interposed,  "  I  think 
that  considering  your  dangerous  adventure,  you  look 
perfectly  presentable.  Of  course,  we  quite  understand 
that  as  the  Princess  has  returned,  you  should  wish  to 
go  back  to  her  at  once,  though  we  are  very  sorry  to 
let  you  go." 

Sabina  paused  a  moment  before  answering.  Then 
she  spoke  to  the  Baroness,  only  glancing  at  Volterra. 

"  Until  to-day,  you  have  been  very  kind  to  me,"  she 
said  with  an  effort.  "  I  thank  you  for  your  kindness, 
and  I  am  sorry  that  you  think  so  badly  of  me." 


304  THE    HEART   OF   ROME 

"My  dear  young  lady,"  cried  the  Baron,  lying 
with  hearty  cordiality,  "you  are  much  mistaken!  I 
assure  you,  it  was  only  a  momentary  misapprehension 
on  the  part  of  my  wife,  who  had  not  even  spoken  with 
Signor  Malipieri.  His  explanation  has  been  more  than 
satisfactory.  Is  it  not  so,  my  dear?"  he  asked,  turn 
ing  to  the  Baroness  for  confirmation  of  his  fluent  as 
surances. 

"  Of  course,"  she  answered,  half  choking,  and  with  a 
face  like  thunder ;  but  she  dared  not  disobey. 

"  If  my  mother  says  anything  about  my  frock,  I  shall 
tell  her  the  whole  story,"  said  Sabina,  glancing  at  her 
skirt. 

"  If  you  do,"  said  the  Baroness,  "  I  shall  deny  it  from 
beginning  to  end." 

"  I  think  that  it  would  perhaps  be  wiser  to  explain 
that  in  some  other  way,"  the  Baron  suggested.  "  Signor 
Malipieri,  will  you  be  so  very  kind  as  to  go  down  first, 
and  take  the  porter  with  a  light  to  the  entrance  of  the 
cellars?  He  knows  Donna  Sabina,  you  see.  I  will 
come  down  presently,  for  I  shall  stay  behind  and  ask 
the  detective  to  look  out  of  the  window  in  the  next 
room,  while  my  wife  and  Donna  Sabina  pass  through. 
In  that  way  we  shall  be  quite  sure  that  she  will  not 
be  recognized.  Will  you  do  that,  Signor  Malipieri? 
Unless  you  have  a  better  plan  to  suggest,  of  course." 

Malipieri  saw  that  the  plan  was  simple  and  apparently 
safe.  He  looked  once  more  at  Sabina,  and  she  smiled, 
and  just  bent  her  head,  but  said  nothing.  He  left  the 
room.  The  detective  was  sitting  in  a  corner  of  the 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  305 

room  beyond,  and  the  two  men  exchanged  a  silent  nod 
as  Malipieri  passed. 

Everything  was  arranged  as  the  Baron  had  planned, 
and  ten  minutes  later  the  Baroness  and  Sabina  de 
scended  the  stairs  together  in  silence  and  reached  the 
great  entrance.  The  two  soldiers  were  standing  by  the 
open  door  of  the  lodge,  and  saluted  in  military  fashion. 
Gigi,  the  carpenter,  sprang  forward  and  opened  the 
postern  door,  touching  his  paper  cap  to  the  ladies. 

They  did  not  exchange  a  word  as  they  walked  to  the 
Piazza  Sant'  Apollinare  to  find  a  cab.  Sabina  held  her 
head  high  and  looked  straight  before  her,  and  the 
Baroness's  invisible  silk  bellows  were  distinctly  audible 
in  the  quiet  street. 

"  By  the  hour,"  said  the  Baroness,  as  they  got  into 
the  first  cab  they  reached  on  the  stand.  "  Go  to  the 
Russian  Embassy,  in  the  Corso." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

"  So  you  spent  last  night  in  the  rooms  of  a  man  you 
have  not  seen  half  a  dozen  times,"  said  the  Princess, 
speaking  with  a  cigarette  in  her  mouth.  "  And  what 
is  worse,  those  dreadful  Volterra  people  found  you 
there.  No  Conti  ever  had  any  common  sense  ! " 

What  Sabina  had  foreseen  had  happened.  Her 
mother  had  looked  her  over,  from  head  to  foot,  to  see 
what  sort  of  condition  she  was  in,  as  a  horse-dealer 
looks  over  a  promising  colt  he  has  not  seen  for  some 
time ;  and  the  Princess  had  instantly  detected  the  signs 
of  an  accident.  In  answer  to  her  question  Sabina  told 
the  truth.  Her  mother  had  watched  her  face  and  her 
innocent  eyes  while  she  was  telling  the  story,  and 
needed  no  other  confirmation. 

"  You  are  a  good  girl,"  she  continued,  as  Sabina  did 
not  reply  to  the  last  speech.  "But  you  are  a  little 
fool.  I  wonder  why  my  children  are  all  idiots !  I 
am  not  so  stupid  after  all.  I  suppose  it  must  have 
been  your  poor  father." 

The  white  lids  closed  thoughtfully  over  her  magnifi 
cent  eyes,  and  opened  again  after  a  moment,  as  if  she 
had  called  up  a  vision  of  her  departed  husband  and 
had  sent  it  away  again. 

"  I  suppose  it  was  silly  of  me  to  go  at  all,"  Sabina 

306 


THE   HEART   OF   BOME  307 

admitted,  leaning  back  in  her  chair.  "  But  I  wanted 
so  much  to  see  the  statues!  " 

She  felt  at  home.  Her  mother  had  brought  her  up 
badly  and  foolishly,  and  of  late  had  neglected  her 
shamefully.  Sabina  knew  that  and  neither  loved  her 
nor  respected  her,  and  it  was  not  because  she  was 
her  mother  that  the  girl  felt  suddenly  at  ease  in  her 
presence,  as  she  never  could  feel  with  the  Baroness.  She 
did  not  wish  to  be  at  all  like  her  mother  in  character, 
or  even  in  manner,  and  yet  she  felt  that  they  belonged 
to  the  same  kind,  spoke  the  same  language,  and  had  an 
instinctive  understanding  of  each  other,  though  these 
things  implied  neither  mutual  respect  nor  affection. 

"That  horrible  old  Vol terra !"  said  the  Princess, 
with  emphasis.  "  He  means  to  keep  everything  he  has 
found,  for  himself,  if  he  can.  I  have  come  only  just  in 
time." 

Sabina  did  not  answer.  She  knew  nothing  of  the 
law,  and  though  she  fancied  that  she  might  have  some 
morally  just  claim  to  a  share  in  the  treasure,  she  had 
never  believed  that  it  could  be  proved. 

"  Of  course,"  the  Princess  continued,  smoking 
thoughtfully,  "  there  is  only  one  thing  to  be  done. 
You  must  marry  this  Malipieri  at  once,  whether  you 
like  him  or  not.  What  sort  of  man  is  he  ?  " 

The  faint  colour  rose  in  Sabina's  cheeks  and  not  al 
together  at  the  mere  thought  of  marrying  Malipieri; 
she  was  hurt  by  the  way  her  mother  spoke  of  him. 

"  What  kind  of  man  is  he  ?  "  the  Princess  repeated. 
"  I  suppose  he  is  a  Venetian,  a  son  of  the  man  who 


308  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

married  the  Gradenigo  heiress,  about  the  time  when  I 
was  married  myself.  Is  he  the  man  who  discovered 
Troy  ?  " 

"  Carthage,  I  think,"  said  Sabina. 

"Troy,  Carthage,  America,  it  is  all  the  same.  He 
discovered  something,  and  I  fancy  he  will  be  rich. 
But  what  is  he  like  ?  Dark,  fair,  good,  bad,  snuffy  or 
smart  ?  As  he  is  an  archaeologist,  he  must  be  snuffy, 
a  bore,  probably,  and  what  the  English  call  a  male 
frump.  It  cannot  be  helped,  my  dear !  You  will 
have  to  marry  him.  Describe  him  to  me." 

"  He  is  dark,"  said  Sabina. 

"  I  am  glad  of  that.  I  always  liked  dark  men  — 
your  father  was  fair,  like  you.  Besides,  as  you  are 
a  blonde,  you  will  always  look  better  beside  a  dark 
husband.  But  of  course  he  is  dreadfully  careless,  with 
long  hair  and  doubtful  nails.  All  those  people  are." 

"  No,"  said  Sabina.  "  He  is  very  nice-looking  and 
neat,  and  wears  good  clothes." 

The  Princess's  brow  cleared. 

"All  the  better,"  she  said.  "Well,  my  dear,  it  is 
not  so  bad  after  all.  We  have  found  a  husband  for 
you,  rich,  of  good  family  —  quite  as  good  as  yours, 
my  child  !  Good-looking,  smart  —  what  more  do  you 
expect?  Besides,  he  cannot  possibly  refuse  to  marry 
you  after  what  has  happened.  On  the  whole,  I  think 
your  adventure  has  turned  out  rather  well.  You  can 
be  married  in  a  month.  Every  one  will  think  it  quite 
natural  that  it  should  have  been  kept  quiet  until  I 
came,  you  see." 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  309 

"  But  even  if  I  wanted  to  marry  him,  he  will  never 
ask  for  me,"  objected  Sabina,  who  was  less  surprised 
than  might  be  expected,  for  she  knew  her  mother 
thoroughly. 

The  Princess  laughed,  and  blew  a  cloud  of  smoke 
from  her  lips,  and  then  showed  her  handsome  teeth. 

"  I  have  only  to  say  the  word,"  she  answered. 
"  When  a  young  girl  of  our  world  has  spent  the  night 
in  a  man's  rooms,  he  marries  her,  if  her  family  wishes 
it.  No  man  of  honour  can  possibly  refuse.  I  suppose 
that  this  Malipieri  is  a  gentleman  ?  " 

"  Indeed  he  ?s  !  "  Sabina  spoke  with  considerable 
indignation. 

"  Precisely.  Then  he  will  come  to  me  this  after 
noon  and  tell  his  story  frankly,  just  as  you  have  done 
—  it  was  very  sensible  of  you,  my  dear  —  and  he  will 
offer  to  marry  you.  Of  course  I  shall  accept." 

"  But,  mother,"  cried  Sabina,  aghast  at  the  sudden 
ness  of  the  conclusion,  "  I  am  not  at  all  sure  —  " 

She  stopped,  feeling  that  she  was  much  more  sure 
of  being  in  love  with  Malipieri  than  she  had  been 
when  she  had  driven  to  the  palace  with  Sassi  on  the 
previous  afternoon. 

"  Is  there  any  one  you  like  better  ? "  asked  the 
Princess  sharply.  "  Are  you  in  love  with  any  one  else  ?  " 

"No!     But  —  " 

"I  had  never  seen  your  father  when  our  marriage 
was  arranged,"  the  Princess  observed. 

"And  you  were  very  unhappy  together,"  Sabina 
answered  promptly.  "You  always  say  so." 


310  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"  Oh,  unhappy  ?  I  am  not  so  sure,  now.  Certainly 
not  nearly  so  miserable  as  half  the  people  I  know. 
After  all,  what  is  happiness,  child  ?  Doing  what  you 
please,  is  it  not  ?  " 

Sabina  had  not  thought  of  this  definition,  and  she 
laughed,  without  accepting  it.  In  one  way,  everything 
looked  suddenly  bright  and  cheerful,  since  her  mother 
had  believed  her  story,  and  she  knew  that  she  was  not 
to  go  back  to  the  Baroness,  who  had  not  believed  her 
at  all,  and  had  called  her  bad  names. 

"  And  I  almost  always  did  as  I  pleased,"  the  Princess 
continued,  after  a  moment's  reflection.  "The  only 
trouble  was  that  your  dear  father  did  not  always  like 
what  I  did.  He  was  a  very  religious  man.  That  was 
what  ruined  us.  He  gave  half  his  income  to  charities 
and  then  scolded  me  because  I  could  not  live  on  the 
other  half.  Besides,  he  turned  the  Ten  Command- 
ments  into  a  hundred.  It  was  a  perfect  multiplication 
table  of  things  one  was  not  to  do." 

Poor  Sabina's  recollections  of  her  father  had  nothing 
of  affection  in  them,  and  she  did  not  feel  called  upon  to 
defend  his  memory.  Like  many  weak  but  devout  men, 
he  had  been  severe  to  his  children,  even  to  cruelty, 
while  perfectly  incapable  of  controlling  his  wife's 
caprices. 

"  I  remember,  though  I  was  only  a  little  girl  when  he 
died,"  Sabina  said. 

"  Is  Malipieri  very  religious  ? "  the  Princess  asked. 
"I  mean,  does  he  make  a  fuss  about  having  fish  on 
Fridays  ?  "  She  spoke  quite  gravely. 


THE   HEART   OF   KOME  311 

"  I  fancy  not,"  Sabina  answered,  seeing  nothing  odd 
in  her  mother's  implied  definition  of  righteousness. 
"  He  never  talked  to  me  about  religion,  I  am  sure." 

"  Thank  God  !  "  exclaimed  the  Princess  devoutly. 

"  He  always  says  he  is  a  republican,"  Sabina  remarked, 
glad  to  talk  about  him. 

"  Really  ?  "  The  Princess  was  interested.  "  I  adore 
revolutionaries,"  she  said  thoughtfully.  "  They  always 
have  something  to  say.  I  have  always  longed  to  meet 
a  real  anarchist." 

"  Signor  Malipieri  is  not  an  anarchist,"  said  Sabina. 

"  Of  course  not,  child !  I  never  said  he  was.  All 
anarchists  are  shoemakers  or  miners,  or  something  like 
that.  I  only  said  that  I  always  longed  to  meet  one. 
People  who  do  not  value  their  lives  are  generally  amus 
ing.  When  I  was  a  girl,  I  was  desperately  in  love 
with  a  cousin  of  mine  who  drove  a  four-in-hand  down 
a  flight  of  steps,  and  won  a  bet  by  jumping  on  a  wild 
bear's  back.  He  was  always  doing  those  things.  I 
loved  him  dearly."  The  Princess  laughed. 

"  What  became  of  him  ?  "  Sabina  asked. 

"  He  shot  himself  one  day  in  Geneva,  poor  boy, 
because  he  was  bored.  I  was  always  sorry,  though 
they  would  not  have  let  me  marry  him,  because  he 
had  lost  all  his  money  at  cards."  The  Princess  sighed. 
"  Of  course  you  want  a  lot  of  new  clothes,  my  dear," 
she  said,  changing  the  subject  rather  suddenly.  "  Have 
you  nothing  but  that  to  wear  ?  " 

Sabina's  things  had  not  yet  come  from  the  Via 
Ludovisi.  She  explained  that  she  had  plenty  of  clothes. 


312  THE   HBAKT   OF   ROME 

"  I  fancy  they  are  nothing  but  rags,"  her  mother 
answered  incredulously.  "  We  shall  have  to  go  to 
Paris  in  any  case  for  your  trousseau.  You  cannot 
get  anything  here." 

"  But  we  have  no  money,"  objected  Sabina. 

"  As  if  that  made  any  difference !  We  can  always 
get  money,  somehow.  What  a  child  you  are !  " 

Sabina  said  nothing,  for  she  knew  that  her  mother 
always  managed  to  have  what  she  wanted,  even  when 
it  looked  quite  impossible.  The  girl  had  been  brought 
up  in  the  atmosphere  of  perpetual  debt  and  borrowing 
which  seemed  natural  to  the  Princess,  and  nothing  of 
that  sort  surprised  her,  though  it  was  all  contrary  to 
her  own  instinctively  conscientious  and  honourable 
nature. 

Her  mother  had  always  been  a  mystery  to  her,  and 
now,  as  Sabina  sat  near  her,  she  crossed  her  feet,  which 
were  encased  in  a  pair  of  the  Princess's  slippers,  and 
looked  at  her  as  she  had  often  looked  before,  wondering 
how  such  a  reckless,  scatter-brained,  almost  penniless 
woman  could  have  remained  the  great  personage  which 
the  world  always  considered  her  to  be,  and  that,  too, 
without  the  slightest  effort  on  her  part  to  maintain  her 
position. 

Then  Sabina  reflected  upon  the  Baroness's  existence, 
which  was  one  long  struggle  to  reach  a  social  elevation 
not  even  remotely  rivalling  that  of  the  Princess  Conti ; 
a  struggle  in  which  she  was  armed  with  a  large  fortune, 
with  her  husband's  political  power,  with  the  most 
strictly  virtuous  views  of  life,  and  an  iron  will;  a 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  313 

struggle  which  could  never  raise  her  much  beyond  the 
point  she  had  already  reached. 

Sabina's  meditations  were  soon  interrupted  by  the 
arrival  of  her  belongings,  in  charge  of  her  mother's 
maid,  and  the  immediate  necessity  of  dressing  more 
carefully  than  had  been  possible  when  she  had  been  so 
rudely  roused  by  the  Baroness.  She  was  surprised  to 
find  herself  so  little  tired  by  the  desperate  adventure, 
and  without  even  a  cold  as  the  result  of  the  never-to- 
be-forgotten  chill  she  had  felt  in  the  vaults. 

In  the  afternoon,  the  Princess  declared  that  she 
would  not  go  out.  She  was  sure  that  Malipieri  would 
present  himself,  and  she  would  receive  him  in  her 
boudoir.  The  ambassador  had  given  her  a  very  pretty 
set  of  rooms.  He  was  a  bachelor,  and  was  of  course 
delighted  to  have  her  stay  with  him,  and  still  more 
pleased  that  her  pretty  daughter  should  join  her.  It 
was  late  in  the  season,  he  was  detained  in  Rome  by  an 
international  complication,  and  he  looked  upon  the 
arrival  of  the  two  guests  as  a  godsend,  more  especially 
as  the  Princess  was  an  old  acquaintance  of  his  and  the 
wife  of  an  intimate  friend.  Nothing  could  have  been 
more  delightful,  and  everything  was  for  the  best.  The 
Princess  herself  felt  that  fortune  was  shining  upon  her, 
for  she  never  doubted  that  she  could  lay  hands  on  some 
of  the  money  which  the  statues  would  bring,  and  she 
was  sure,  at  least,  of  marrying  Sabina  extremely  well 
in  a  few  weeks,  which  was  an  advantage  not  to  be 
despised. 

During  the  hours  that  followed  her  first  conversation 


314  THE   HEART   OP   ROME 

with  her  mother,  Sabina  found  time  to  reflect  upon  her 
own  future,  and  the  more  she  thought  of  it,  the  more 
rosy  it  seemed.  She  was  sure  that  Malipieri  loved  her, 
though  he  had  certainly  not  told  her  so  yet,  and  she 
was  sure  that  she  had  never  met  a  man  whom  she  liked 
half  so  much.  It  was  true  that  she  had  not  met  many, 
and  none  at  all  in  even  such  intimacy  as  had  estab 
lished  itself  between  him  and  her  at  their  very  first 
meeting  ;  but  that  mattered  little,  and  last  night  she 
had  seen  him  as  few  women  ever  see  a  man,  fighting 
for  her  life  and  his  own  for  hours  together,  and  win 
ning  in  the  end.  Indeed,  had  she  known  it,  their  situ 
ation  had  been  really  desperate,  for  while  Masin  was  in 
prison  and  in  ignorance  of  what  had  happened,  and 
Sassi  lying  unconscious  at  the  hospital  after  a  fall  that 
had  nearly  killed  him  outright,  it  was  doubtful 
whether  any  one  else  could  have  guessed  that  they 
were  in  the  vaults  or  would  have  been  able  to  get  them 
out  alive,  had  it  been  known. 

She  had  always  expected  to  be  married  against  her 
will  by  her  mother,  or  at  all  events  without  any  incli 
nation  on  her  own  part.  She  had  been  taught  that  it 
was  the  way  of  the  world,  which  it  was  better  to  accept. 
If  the  proposed  husband  had  been  a  cripple,  or  an  old 
man,  she  would  have  been  capable  of  rebellion,  of 
choosing  the  convent,  of  running  away  alone  into  the 
world,  of  almost  anything.  But  if  he  had  turned  out 
to  be  an  average  individual,  neither  uglier,  nor  older, 
nor  more  repulsive  than  many  others,  she  would  prob 
ably,  have  accepted  her  fate  with  indifference,  or  at 


THE   HEART  OF   HOME  315 

least  with  the  necessary  resignation,  especially  if  she 
had  never  met  Malipieri.  Instead  of  that,  it  was  prob 
ably  Malipieri  whom  she  was  to  marry,  the  one  of  all 
others  whom  she  had  chosen  for  herself,  and  in  place 
of  a  dreary  existence,  stretching  out  through  endless 
blank  years  in  the  future,  she  saw  a  valley  of  light, 
carpeted  with  roses,  opening  suddenly  in  the  wilderness 
to  receive  her  and  the  man  she  loved. 

It  was  no  wonder  that  she  smiled  in  her  sleep  as  she 
lay  resting  in  the  warm  afternoon,  in  her  own  room. 
Her  mother  had  made  her  lie  down,  partly  because  she 
was  still  tired,  and  partly  because  it  would  be  con 
venient  that  she  should  be  out  of  the  way  if  Malipieri 
came. 

He  came,  as  the  Princess  had  expected,  and  between 
two  and  three  o'clock,  an  hour  at  which  he  was  almost 
sure  to  find  her  at  home.  From  what  Sabina  had  said 
to  the  Baroness  in  his  presence,  and  from  his  judgment 
of  the  girl's  character,  he  felt  certain  that  she  would 
tell  her  mother  the  whole  story  at  once.  As  they  had 
acknowledged  to  each  other  in  the  vaults,  they  were 
neither  of  them  good  at  inventing  falsehoods,  and 
Sabina  would  surely  tell  the  truth.  In  the  extremely 
improbable  case  that  she  had  not  been  obliged  to 
say  anything  about  the  events  of  the  night,  his  visit 
would  not  seem  at  all  out  of  place.  He  had  seen  a 
good  deal  of  Sabina  during  her  mother's  absence,  and 
it  was  proper  that  he  should  present  himself  in  order  to 
make  the  Princess's  acquaintance. 

He  studied  her  face  quickly  as  he  came  forward,  and 


316  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

made  up  his  mind  that  she  expected  him,  though  she 
looked  up  with  an  air  of  languid  surprise  as  he  entered. 
She  leaned  forward  a  little  in  her  comfortable  seat,  and 
held  out  her  plump  hand. 

"I  think  I  knew  your  mother,  and  my  daughter  has 
told  me  about  you,"  she  said*  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you." 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  Malipieri  answered,  raising  her 
hand  to  his  lips,  which  encountered  a  large,  cool  sap 
phire.  "I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Donna 
Sabina  several  times." 

44  Yes,  I  know."  The  Princess  laughed.  "  Sit  down 
here  beside  me,  and  tell  me  all  about  your  strange 
adventure.  You  are  really  the  man  I  mean,  are  you 
not?"  she  asked,  still  smiling.  "Your  mother  was  a 
Gradenigo?" 

44  Yes.  My  father  is  alive.  You  may  have  met  him, 
though  he  rarely  leaves  Venice." 

44 1  think  I  have,  years  ago,  but  I  am  not  sure.  Does 
he  never  come  to  Rome  ?  " 

44  He  is  an  invalid  now,"  Malipieri  explained  gravely. 
44  He  cannot  leave  the  house." 

44  Indeed  ?  I  am  very  sorry.  It  must  be  dreadful  to 
be  an  invalid.  I  was  never  ill  in  my  life.  But  now 
that  we  have  made  acquaintance,  do  tell  me  all  about 
last  night !  Were  you  really  in  danger,  as  Sabina 
thinks,  or  is  she  exaggerating?" 

44  There  was  certainly  no  exaggeration  in  saying  that 
we  were  in  great  danger,  as  matters  have  turned  out," 
Malipieri  answered.  44  Of  the  two  men  who  knew  that 
we  were  in  the  vault,  one  is  lying  insensible,  with  a 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  317 

fractured  skull,  in  the  hospital  of  the  Consolazione,  and 
the  other  has  been  arrested  by  a  mistake  and  is  in 
prison.  Besides,  both  of  them  would  have  had  every 
reason  to  suppose  that  we  had  got  out." 

"  Sabina  did  not  tell  me  that.  How  awful !  I  must 
know  all  the  details,  please  !  " 

Malipieri  told  the  whole  story,  from  the  time  when 
Volterra  had  first  invited  him  to  come  and  make  a 
search.  The  Princess  nodded  her  energetic  approval 
of  his  view  that  Sabina  had  a  right  to  a  large  share  in 
anything  that  was  found.  The  poor  girl's  dowry,  she 
said,  had  been  eaten  up  by  her  father's  absurd  charities 
and  by  the  bad  administration  of  the  estates  which  had 
ruined  the  whole  family.  Malipieri  paid  no  attention 
to  this  statement,  for  he  knew  the  truth,  and  he  went 
on  to  the  end,  telling  everything,  up  to  the  moment 
when  Volterra  had  at  last  quitted  the  palace  that  morn 
ing  and  had  left  him  free. 

"  Poor  Sassi  !  "  exclaimed  the  Princess,  when  he  had 
finished.  "  He  was  a  foolish  old  man,  but  he  always 
seemed  very  willing.  Is  that  all?  " 

"Yes.  That  is  all.  I  think  I  have  forgotten 
nothing." 

The  Princess  looked  at  him  and  smiled  encourag 
ingly,  expecting  him  to  say  something  more,  but  he 
was  grave  and  silent.  Gradually,  the  smile  faded 
from  her  face,  till  she  looked  away,  and  took  a  ciga 
rette  from  the  table  at  her  elbow.  Still  he  said  nothing. 
She  lit  the  cigarette  and  puffed  at  it  two  or  three 
times,  slowly  and  thoughtfully. 


318  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"  I  hope  that  Donna  Sabina  is  none  the  worse  for 
the  fatigue,"  Malipieri  said  at  last.  "  She  seemed  quite 
well  this  morning.  I  wondered  that  she  had  not 
caught  cold." 

"  She  never  caught  cold  easily,  even  as  a  child,"  an 
swered  the  Princess  indifferently.  "This  affair  may 
have  much  more  serious  consequences  than  a  cold  in 
the  head,"  she  added,  after  a  long  pause. 

"  I  think  the  Volterra  couple  will  be  discreet,  for 
their  own  sakes,"  Malipieri  answered. 

"  Their  servants  must  know  that  Sabina  was  out  all 
night." 

"  They  do  not  know  that  poor  Sassi  did  not  bring 
her  to  you  here,  and  the  Baroness  will  be  careful  to 
let  them  understand  that  she  is  here  now,  and  with 
you.  Those  people  dread  nothing  like  a  scandal. 
The  secret  is  between  them  and  us.  I  do  not  see  how 
any  one  else  can  possibly  know  it,  or  guess  it." 

"  The  fact  remains,"  said  the  Princess,  speaking  out, 
"  that  my  daughter  spent  last  night  in  your  rooms,  and 
slept  there,  as  if  she  had  been  in  her  own  home.  If  it 
is  ever  known  she  will  be  ruined." 

"It  will  never  be  known,  I  am  quite  sure." 

"  I  am  not,  and  it  is  a  possibility  I  cannot  really 
afford  to  contemplate."  She  looked  fixedly  at  him. 

Malipieri  was  silent,  and  his  face  showed  that  he 
was  trying  to  find  some  way  out  of  the  imaginary 
difficulty,  or  at  least  some  argument  which  might 
quiet  the  Princess's  fears. 

She  did  not  understand  his  silence.     If   he  was  a 


THE  HEART   OF   ROME  319 

man  of  honour,  it  was  manifestly  his  duty  at  least 
to  offer  the  reparation  that  lay  in  his  power  ;  but  he 
showed  no  inclination  to  do  so.  It  was  incompre 
hensible. 

"  I  cannot  see  what  is  to  be  done,"  he  said  at  last. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  I  must  tell  you,  Signor  Mali- 
pier  i  ? "  asked  the  Princess,  and  her  splendid  eyes 
flashed  angrily. 

Malipieri's  met  them  without  flinching. 

"  You  mean,  of  course,  that  I  should  offer  to  marry 
Donna  Sabina,"  he  said. 

44  What  else  could  an  honourable  man  do,  in  your 
position  ?  " 

"  I  wish  I  knew."  Malipieri  passed  his  hand  over 
his  eyes  in  evident  distress. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  refuse  ?  "  the  Prin 
cess  asked,  between  scorn  and  anger.  "  Are  you  so 
little  one  of  us  that  you  suppose  this  to  be  a  question 
of  inclination  ?  " 

Malipieri  looked  up  again. 

44  I  wish  it  were.  I  love  your  daughter  with  all 
my  heart  and  soul.  I  did,  before  I  saved  her  life  last 
night." 

The  Princess's  anger  gave  way  to  stupefaction. 

"Well  —  but  then?  I  do  not  understand.  There 
is  something  else  ?  " 

"  Yes,  there  is  something  else.  I  have  kept  the 
secret  a  long  time,  and  it  is  not  all  my  own." 

44 1  have  a  right  to  know  it,"  the  Princess  answered 
firmly,  and  bending  her  brows. 


320  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"I  never  expected  to  tell  it  to  any  one,"  Malipieri 
said,  in  a  low  voice,  and  evidently  struggling  with 
himself.  "  I  see  that  I  shall  have  to  trust  you." 

"  You  must,"  insisted  the  Princess.  "  My  daughter 
has  a  right  to  know,  as  well  as  I ;  and  you  say  that 
you  love  her." 

"  I  am  married." 

"  Good  heavens !  " 

She  sank  back  in  her  chair,  overwhelmed  with  sur 
prise  at  the  simple  statement,  which,  after  all,  need 
not  have  astonished  her  so  much,  as  she  reflected  a 
moment  later.  She  had  never  heard  of  Malipieri  until 
that  day,  and  since  he  had  never  told  any  one  of  his 
marriage,  it  was  impossible  that  her  daughter  should 
have  known  of  it.  She  was  tolerably  sure  that  the 
latter's  adventure  would  not  be  known,  but  she  had 
formed  the  determination  to  take  advantage  of  it 
in  order  to  secure  Malipieri  for  Sabina,  and  had  been 
so  perfectly  sure  of  the  result  that  she  fell  from  the 
clouds  on  learning  that  he  had  a  wife  already. 

On  his  part,  he  was  not  thinking  of  what  was  pass 
ing  in  her  mind,  but  of  what  he  should  have  thought 
of  himself,  had  he,  with  his  character,  been  in  her 
position.  The  bald  statement  that  he  was  married 
and  his  confession  of  his  love  for  Sabina  looked 
badly  side  by  side,  in  the  clear  light  of  his  own 
honour ;  all  the  more,  because  he  knew  that,  without 
positively  or  directly  speaking  out  his  heart  to  the 
girl,  he  had  let  her  guess  that  he  was  falling  in  love 
with  her.  He  had  said  so,  though  in  jeste,  on  that 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  321 

night  when  he  had  been  alone  with  her  in  Volterra's 
house ;  his  going  there,  on  the  mere  chance  of  seeing 
her  alone,  and  the  interest  he  had  shown  in  her  from 
their  first  meeting,  must  have  made  her  think  that 
he  was  in  love.  Moreover,  he  really  was,  and  like 
most  people  who  are  consciously  in  love  where  they 
ought  not  to  be,  he  felt  as  if  everybody  knew  it ;  and 
yet  he  was  a  married  man. 

"I  am  legally  married  under  Italian  law,"  he  said, 
after  a  pause.  "  But  that  is  all.  My  wife  bears  my 
name,  and  lives  honourably  under  it,  but  that  is 
all  there  has  ever  been  of  marriage  in  my  life.  I  can 
honestly  say  that  not  even  a  word  of  affection  ever 
passed  between  us." 

"  How  strange  !  "  The  Princess  listened  with  inter 
est,  wondering  what  was  coming  next. 

"  I  never  saw  her  but  once,"  Malipieri  continued. 
"  We  met  in  the  morning,  we  were  married  at  noon, 
at  the  municipality,  we  parted  at  the  railway  station 
twenty  minutes  later,  and  have  never  met  again." 

"But  you  are  not  married  at  all !  "  cried  the  Prin 
cess.  "The  Church  would  annul  such  a  marriage 
without  making  the  least  trouble." 

"We  were  not  even  married  in  church,"  said  Mal 
ipieri.  "  We  were  married  at  the  municipality 
only." 

"It  is  not  a  marriage  at  all,  then." 

"Excuse  me.  It  is  perfectly  valid  in  law,  and  my 
wife  has  a  certified  copy  of  the  register  to  prove 
that  she  has  a  right  to  my  name." 

T 


322  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

"  Were  you  mad  ?  What  made  you  do  it  ?  It  is 
utterly  incomprehensible  —  to  bind  yourself  for  life 
to  a  woman  you  had  never  seen  !  What  possible 
motive  —  " 

44 1  will  tell  you,"  said  Malipieri.  "  It  all  happened 
long  ago,  when  I  was  little  more  than  twenty-one.  It 
is  not  a  very  long  story,  but  I  beg  you  not  to  tell  it. 
You  do  not  suppose  me  capable  of  keeping  it  a  secret 
in  order  to  make  another  marriage,  not  really  legal, 
do  you?" 

44  Certainly  not,"  answered  the  Princess.  "  I  believe 
you  to  be  an  honourable  man.  I  will  not  tell  your 
story  to  any  one." 

"  You  may  tell  Donna  Sabina  as  much  of  it  as  you 
think  she  need  hear.  This  is  what  happened.  I 
served  my  time  in  a  cavalry  regiment  —  no  matter 
where,  and  I  had  an  intimate  friend,  nearly  of  my 
own  age,  and  a  Venetian.  He  was  very  much  in  love 
with  a  young  girl  of  a  respectable  family,  but  not  of 
his  own  station.  Of  course  his  family  would  not  hear 
of  a  marriage,  but  she  loved  him,  and  he  promised  that 
he  would  marry  her  as  soon  as  he  had  finished  his 
military  service,  in  spite  of  his  own  people.  He  would 
have  been  of  age  by  that  time,  for  he  was  only  a  few 
months  younger  than  I,  and  he  was  willing  to  sacri 
fice  most  of  his  inheritance  for  love  of  the  girl.  Do 
you  understand  ?  " 

"Yes.     Goon." 

44  He  and  I  were  devotedly  attached  to  each  other, 
and  I  sympathized  with  him,  of  course,  and  promised 


THE   HEART   OF  BOMB  323 

to  help  him  if  he  made  a  runaway  match.  He  used 
to  get  leave  for  a  couple  of  days,  to  go  and  see  her, 
for  she  lived  with  her  parents  in  a  small  city  within 
two  hours  of  our  garrison  town.  You  guess  what 
happened.  They  were  young,  they  were  foolish,  and 
they  were  madly  in  love." 

The  Princess  nodded,  and  Malipieri  continued. 

"Not  long  afterwards,  my  friend  was  killed  by  a 
fall.  His  horse  crushed  him.  It  was  a  horrible  acci 
dent,  and  he  lived  twelve  hours  after  it,  in  great  pain. 
He  would  not  let  the  doctors  give  him  morphia.  He 
said  he  would  die  like  a  man,  and  he  did,  with  all 
his  senses  about  him.  While  he  lay  dying,  I  was 
with  him,  and  then  he  told  me  all  the  truth.  The 
girl  would  not  be  able  to  conceal  it  much  longer. 
There  was  no  time  to  bring  her  to  his  bedside  and 
marry  her  while  he  still  breathed.  He  could  not 
even  leave  her  money,  for  he  was  a  minor.  He  could 
do  nothing  for  her  and  her  parents  would  turn  her 
into  the  street ;  in  any  case  she  was  ruined.  He  was 
in  frightful  agony  of  mind  for  her  sake,  he  was  dying 
before  my  eyes,  powerless  to  help  her  and  taking  his 
suffering  and  his  fault  with  him  to  the  next  world, 
and  he  was  my  friend.  I  did  what  I  could.  I  gave 
him  my  word  of  honour  that  I  would  marry  her  legally, 
give  her  and  her  child  my  name,  and  provide  for  them 
as  well  as  I  could.  He  thanked  me  —  I  shall  never 
forget  how  he  looked  —  and  he  died  quietly,  half  an 
hour  afterwards.  You  know  now.  I  kept  my  word. 
That  is  all." 


324  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

The  Princess  looked  at  his  quiet  face  a  moment  in 
silence,  and  all  that  was  best  in  her  rose  up  through 
all  that  was  artificial  and  worldly,  and  untruthful  and 
vain. 

"I  did  not  know  that  there  were  such  men,"  she 
said  simply. 


CHAPTER   XX 

"So  he  got  out,"  said  Gigi  to  Toto,  filling  the 
latter's  glass  to  the  brim. 

"  May  he  die  assassinated  !  "  answered  Toto.  "  I 
will  burn  a  candle  to  the  Madonna  every  day,  in 
order  that  an  apoplexy  may  seize  him.  He  is  the 
devil  in  person,  this  cursed  engineer.  Even  the  earth 
and  the  water  will  not  have  him.  They  spit  him  out, 
like  that." 

Toto  illustrated  the  simile  with  force  and  noise  be 
fore  drinking.  Gigi's  cunning  face  was  wreathed  in 
smiles. 

"  You  know  nothing,"  he  observed. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Toto,  with  his  glass  in  his 
hand  and  between  two  sips. 

"  There  was  old  Sassi,  who  was  hurt,  and  the  en 
gineer's  gaol-bird  mason-servant.  They  were  with 
him.  It  was  all  in  the  Messaggero  this  morning." 

"  I  know  that  without  the  newspaper,  you  imbecile. 
It  was  I  that  told  you,  for  I  saw  all  three  pass  under 
the  window  while  I  was  locked  in.  Is  there  anything 
else  you  know  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  !     There  was  another  person  with  them." 

"I  daresay,"  Toto  answered,  pretending  blank  in 
difference.  "  He  must  have  been  close  to  the  wall  as 

325 


326  THE  HEART   OF   HOME 

they  went  by.  What  difference  does  it  make  since 
that  pig  of  an  engineer  got  out  ?  " 

"The  other  person  was  caught  with  him  when  the 
water  rose,"  said  Gigi,  who  meant  to  give  his  infor 
mation  by  inches. 

"  Curse  him,  whoever  he  was  !  He  helped  the  en 
gineer  and  that  is  why  they  got  out.  No  man  alone 
could  have  broken  through  that  wall  in  a  night,  except 
one  of  us." 

"  The  other  person  was  only  a  woman,  after  all," 
answered  Gigi.  "But  you  do  not  care,  I  suppose." 

"  Speak,  animal  of  a  Jesuit  that  you  are  !  "  cried 
Toto.  "  Do  not  make  me  lose  my  soul !  " 

Gigi  smiled  and  drank  some  of  his  wine. 

"  There  are  people  who  would  pay  to  know,"  he 
said,  "  and  you  would  never  tell  me  whether  the  sluice 
gate  of  the  4  lost  water '  is  under  number  thirteen  or 
not." 

"  It  is  under  number  thirteen,  Master  Judas. 
Speak  !  " 

"  It  was  the  little  fair  girl  of  Casa  Conti  who  was 
caught  with  the  engineer  in  the  vaults." 

Even  Toto  was  surprised,  and  opened  his  eyes  and 
his  mouth  at  the  same  time. 

"The  little  Princess  Sabina?"  he  asked  in  a  low 
voice. 

Gigi  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  a  pitying  air  and 
grinned. 

"  I  told  you  that  you  knew  nothing,"  he  observed  in 
triumph.  "  They  were  together  all  night,  and  she 


THE  HEAKT   OF   HOME  327 

slept  in  his  room,  and  the  Senator's  wife  came  to  get 
her  in  the  morning.  The  engineer  took  the  porter  off 
to  the  cellars  before  they  came  down,  so  that  he  should 
not  see  her  pass  ;  but  he  forgot  me,  the  old  carpenter 
of  the  house,  and  I  opened  the  postern  for  the  two 
ladies  to  go  out.  The  little  Princess's  skirt  had  been 
torn.  I  saw  the  pins  with  these  eyes.  It  was  also 
spotted  with  mud  which  had  been  brushed  off.  But 
thanks  be  to  heaven  I  have  still  my  sight.  I  see,  and 
am  not  blind." 

"Are  you  sure  it  was  she?"  asked  Toto,  forgetting 
to  curse  anybody. 

"  I  saw  her  as  I  see  you.  Have  I  not  seen  her  grow 
up,  since  she  used  to  be  wheeled  about  in  a  baby 
carriage  in  Piazza  Navona,  like  a  flower  in  a  basket? 
Her  nurse  made  love  with  the  'woodpecker'  who 
was  always  on  duty  there." 

The  Romans  call  the  municipal  watchmen  "  wood 
peckers,"  because  they  wear  little  pointed  cocked  hats 
with  a  bunch  of  feathers.  They  have  nothing  to  do 
with  police  soldiers,  nor  with  the  carabineers. 

Toto  made  Gigi  tell  him  everything  he  knew.  At 
the  porter's  suggestion  Volterra  had  sent  for  the 
mason,  as  the  only  man  who  knew  anything  about  the 
"  lost  water,"  and  Toto  had  agreed,  with  apparent  re 
luctance,  to  do  what  he  could  at  once,  as  soon  as  he 
had  satisfied  himself  that  Malipieri  had  really  made 
another  opening  by  which  the  statues  could  be  reached. 
Toto  laid  down  conditions,  however.  He  pretended 
that  he  must  expose  himself  to  great  danger,  and 


328  THE   HEART   OF  KOME 

insisted  upon  being  paid  fifty  francs  for  the  job.  Fur 
thermore,  he  obtained  from  Volterra,  in  the  presence 
of  the  porter  as  witness,  a  formal  promise  that  his 
grandfather's  bones  should  have  Christian  burial,  with 
a  fine  hearse  and  feathers,  and  a  permanent  grave  in 
the  cemetery  of  Saint  Lawrence,  which  latter  is  rather 
an  expensive  luxury,  beyond  the  means  of  the  working 
people.  But  the  Baron  made  no  objection.  The  story 
would  look  very  well  in  a  newspaper  paragraph,  as  a 
fine  illustration  of  the  Senator's  liberality  as  well  as  of 
his  desire  to  maintain  the  forms  of  religion.  It  would 
please  everybody,  and  what  will  do  that  is  cheap  at 
any  price,  in  politics. 

The  result  of  these  negotiations  had  of  course  been 
that  the  water  had  subsided  in  the  vaults  within  a  few 
hours,  and  Toto  even  found  a  way  of  draining  the 
outer  cellars,  which  had  been  flooded  to  the  depth  of 
a  couple  of  feet,  because  the  first  breach  made  by  Mali- 
pieri  had  turned  out  to  be  an  inch  or  two  lower  than 
the  level  of  the  overflow  shaft. 

When  the  two  workmen  had  exchanged  confidences, 
they  ordered  another  half  litre  of  wine,  and  sat  in 
silence  till  the  grimy  host  had  set  it  down  between 
them  on  the  blackened  table,  and  had  retired  to  his 
den.  Then  they  looked  at  each  other. 

"  There  is  an  affair  here,"  observed  Gigi  presently. 

"I  suppose  you  mean  the  newspapers,"  said  Toto, 
nodding  gravely.  "They  pay  for  such  stories." 

"  Newspapers ! "  Gigi  made  a  face.  "  All  journal 
ists  are  pigs  who  are  dying  of  hunger." 


THE   HEART    OF   ROME  329 

Toto  seemed  inclined  to  agree  with  this  somewhat 
extreme  statement,  on  the  whole,  but  he  distinguished. 
There  were  papers,  he  said,  which  would  pay  as  much 
as  a  hundred  francs  for  a  scandalous  story  about  the 
Roman  princes.  A  hundred  francs  was  not  a  gold 
mine,  it  was  not  Peru.  But  it  was  a  hundred  francs. 
What  did  Gigi  expect  ?  The  treasure  of  Saint  Peter's  ? 
A  story  was  a  story,  after  all,  and  anybody  could 
deny  it. 

"  It  is  worth  more  than  a  hundred  francs,"  Gigi  an 
swered,  with  his  weasel  smile,  "but  not  to  the  news 
papers.  The  honour  of  a  Roman  princess  is  worth  a 
hundred  thousand." 

Toto  whistled,  and  then  looked  incredulous,  but  it 
began  to  dawn  upon  him  that  the  "  affair  "  was  of  more 
importance  than  he  had  supposed.  Gigi  was  much 
cleverer  than  he ;  that  was  why  he  always  called  Gigi 
an  imbecile. 

The  carpenter  unfolded  his  plan.  He  knew  as  well 
as  any  one  that  the  Conti  were  ruined  and  could  not 
raise  any  such  sum  as  he  proposed  to  demand,  even  to 
save  Sabina's  good  name.  It  would  apparently  be  nec 
essary  to  extract  the  blackmail  from  Volterra  by  some 
means  to  be  discovered.  On  the  other  hand,  Volterra 
was  not  only  rich,  he  also  possessed  much  power,  and  it 
would  be  somewhat  dangerous  to  incur  his  displeasure. 

Toto,  though  dull,  had  a  certain  rough  common  sense 
and  pointed  this  out.  He  said  that  the  Princess  must 
have  jewels  which  she  could  sell  to  save  her  daughter 
from  disgrace.  She  and  Donna  Sabina  were  at  the 


330  THE   HEART   OF   EOME 

Russian  Embassy,  for  the  Messaggero  said  so.  Gigi, 
who  could  write,  might  send  her  a  letter  there. 

"  No  doubt,"  assented  the  carpenter  with  a  superior 
air.  "  I  have  some  instruction,  and  can  write  a  letter. 
But  the  jewels  are  paste.  Half  the  Roman  princesses 
wear  sham  jewellery  nowadays.  Do  you  suppose  the 
Conti  have  not  sold  everything  long  ago  ?  They  had 
to  live." 

"  I  do  not  see  why,"  observed  Toto.  "  Princes  with 
out  money  might  as  well  be  dead,  an  apoplexy  on  them 
all !  Well,  what  do  you  propose  to  do  ?  That  old 
franc-eater  of  a  Senator  will  not  pay  you  for  the  girl's 
reputation,  since  she  is  not  his  daughter." 

44  We  must  think,"  said  Gigi.  "  Perhaps  it  would  do 
no  harm  to  write  a  letter  to  the  Princess.  The  engi 
neer  is  poor,  of  course.  It  is  of  no  use  to  go  to  him." 

"  All  engineers  are  starving  to  death,"  Toto  answered 
cheerfully.  "I  have  seen  them  eat  bread  and  onions 
and  drink  water,  like  us.  Would  they  eat  onions  and 
dry  bread  if  they  could  have  meat  ?  It  is  when  they 
become  contractors  that  they  get  money,  by  cheating 
the  rich  and  strangling  the  poor.  I  know  them.  They 
are  all  evil  people." 

"  This  is  true,"  assented  Gigi.  "  I  have  seen  several, 
before  this  one." 

"This  one  is  the  eternal  father  of  all  assassins," 
growled  Toto.  "  He  talked  of  walling  me  up  alive." 

44  That  was  only  a  joke,  to  frighten  you  into  holding 
your  tongue,"  said  Gigi.  44  And  you  did." 

44  A  fine  joke !     I  wish  you  had  been  down  there, 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  331 

hiding  beside  the  gold  statue  instead  of  me,  while  two 
murderers  sat  by  the  little  hole  above  and  talked  of 
walling  it  up  for  a  week  or  ten  days  !  A  fine  joke ! 
The  joke  the  cat  makes  to  the  mouse  before  eating  it ! " 

"  I  can  tell  the  Princess  that  the  money  must  be  sent 
in  thousand-franc  notes,"  said  Gigi,  who  was  not  listen 
ing.  "  It  cannot  go  to  the  post-office  registered,  because 
it  must  be  addressed  to  a  false  name.  Somebody  must 
bring  it  to  us." 

"  And  bring  the  police  to  catch  us  at  the  same  time," 
suggested  Toto  contemptuously.  "That  will  not  do." 

44  She  must  bring  it  herself,  to  a  safe  place." 

44  How  ?  " 

44  For  instance,  I  can  write  that  she  must  take  a  cab 
and  drive  out  of  the  city  on  the  Via  Appia,  and  drive, 
and  drive,  until  she  meets  two  men  —  they  will  be 
you  and  me  —  one  with  a  red  handkerchief  hanging 
out  of  his  coat  pocket,  and  the  other  with  an  old  green 
riband  for  a  band  to  his  hat.  I  have  an  old  green  rib 
and  that  will  do.  She  must  come  alone  in  the  cab. 
If  we  see  any  one  with  her,  she  shall  not  see  us.  She 
will  not  know  how  far  out  we  shall  be,  so  she  cannot 
send  the  police  to  the  place.  It  may  be  one  mile  from 
the  gate,  or  five.  I  will  write  that  if  she  does  not  come 
alone,  the  story  will  be  printed  in  all  the  papers  the 
next  morning." 

Toto  now  looked  at  his  friend  with  something  almost 
like  admiration. 

44 1  did  not  know  that  you  had  been  a  brigand,"  he 
remarked  pleasantly.  44  That  is  well  thought.  Only 


332  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

the  Princess  may  not  be  able  to  get  the  money,  and  if 
she  does,  she  had  better  bring  it  in  gold.  We  will  then 
go  to  America." 

Neither  of  the  men  had  the  least  idea  that  a  hundred 
thousand  francs  in  gold  would  be  an  uncommonly  awk 
ward  and  heavy  load  to  carry.  They  supposed  it  would 
go  into  their  pockets. 

"If  she  does  not  come,  we  will  try  the  Senator  before 
we  publish  the  story,"  said  Gigi.  "  By  that  time  we 
shall  have  been  able  to  think  of  some  way  of  putting 
him  under  the  oil-press  to  squeeze  the  gold  out  of 
him." 

"  In  any  case,  this  is  a  good  affair,"  Toto  concluded, 
filling  his  pipe.  "  Nothing  is  bad  which  ends  well, 
and  we  may  both  be  gentlemen  in  America  before 
long." 

So  the  two  ruffians  disposed  of  poor  little  Sabina's 
reputation  in  the  reeking  wine  shop,  very  much  to 
their  own  imaginary  advantage  ;  and  the  small  yellow- 
and-blue  clouds  from  their  stinking  pipes  circled  up 
slowly  through  the  gloom  into  the  darkness  above  their 
heads,  as  the  light  failed  in  the  narrow  street  out 
side. 

Then  Gigi,  the  carpenter,  bought  two  sheets  of  paper 
and  an  envelope,  and  a  pen  and  a  wretched  little  bottle 
of  ink,  and  a  stamp,  all  at  the  small  tobacconist's  at  the 
corner  of  Via  della  Scrofa,  and  went  to  Toto's  lodging 
to  compose  his  letter,  because  Toto  lived  alone,  and 
there  were  no  women  in  the  house. 

Just   at   the   same   time,  Volterra  was   leaving   the 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  333 

Palazzo  Madama,  where  the  Senate  sits,  not  a  couple 
of  hundred  yards  away.  And  the  two  workmen  would 
have  been  very  much  surprised  if  they  could  have 
guessed  what  was  beginning  to  grow  in  the  fertile 
but  tortuous  furrows  of  his  financial  and  political 
intelligence,  and  that  in  the  end  their  schemes  might 
possibly  fall  in  with  his. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

As  it  had  become  manifestly  impossible  to  keep  the 
secret  of  the  discovery  in  the  Palazzo  Conti  any  longer, 
Volterra  had  behaved  with  his  accustomed  magnanimity. 
He  had  not  only  communicated  all  the  circumstances  to 
the  authorities  at  once,  offering  the  government  the 
refusal  of  the  statues,  which  the  law  could  not  oblige 
him  to  sell  if  he  chose  to  keep  them  in  the  palace,  but 
also  publicly  giving  full  credit  to  the  "  learned  archae 
ologist  and  intrepid  engineer,  Signor  Marino  Malipieri, 
already  famous  throughout  Europe  for  his  recent  dis 
coveries  in  Carthage."  In  two  or  three  days  the  papers 
were  full  of  Malipieri's  praises.  Those  that  were  in 
clined  to  differ  with  the  existing  state  of  things  called 
him  a  hero,  and  even  a  martyr  of  liberty,  besides  a  very 
great  man ;  and  those  which  were  staunch  to  the  mon 
archy  poked  mild  fun  at  his  early  political  flights  and 
congratulated  him  upon  having  descended  from  the 
skies,  after  burning  his  wings,  not  only  to  earth, 
but  to  the  waters  that  are  under  the  earth,  returning  to 
the  upper  air  laden  with  treasures  of  art  which  reflected 
new  glory  upon  Italy. 

All  this  was  very  fine,  and  much  of  it  was  un 
doubtedly  true,  but  it  did  not  in  the  least  help  Mali 
pieri  to  solve  the  problem  which  had  presented  itself 

334 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  335 

so  suddenly  in  his  life.  The  roads  to  happiness  and 
to  reputation  rarely  lead-  to  the  same  point  of  the 
compass  when  he  who  hopes  to  attain  both  has  more 
heart  than  ambition.  It  is  not  given  to  many,  as 
it  was  to  Baron  Volterra,  to  lead  an  admiring,  sub 
missive  and  highly  efficient  wife  up  the  broad  steps  of 
political  power,  financial  success  and  social  glory. 
Neither  Caesar  nor  Bonaparte  reached  the  top  with 
the  wife  of  his  heart,  yet  Volterra,  more  moderately 
endowed, "though  with  almost  equal  ambition,  bade  fail- 
to  climb  high  with  the  virtuous  helpmeet  of  his  choice 
on  his  arm. 

Malipieri  slept  badly  and  grew  thinner  during  those 
days.  His  devotion  to  his  dying  friend  had  been 
absurdly  quixotic,  according  to  ordinary  standards, 
but  it  had  never  seemed  foolish  to  him,  and  he  had 
never  regretted  it.  He  had  always  believed  that  a 
man  of  action  and  thought  is  freer  to  think  and  act 
if  he  remains  unmarried,  and  it*  had  never  occurred  to 
him  that  he  might  fall  in  love  with  a  young  girl,  with 
out  whom  life  would  seem  empty.  He  was  quixotic, 
generous  and  impulsive,  but  like  many  men  who  do 
extremely  romantic  things,  he  thought  himself  quite 
above  sentimentality  and  entirely  master  of  his  heart. 
Hitherto  the  theory  had  worked  very  well,  because  he 
had  never  really  tried  to  practise  it.  Nothing  had 
seemed  easier  than  not  to  fall  in  love  with  marriageable 
young  women,  and  he  had  grown  used  to  believing  that 
he  never  could. 

With  that   brutality  to  his   own  feelings  of   which" 


336  THE   HEART   OP  ROME 

only  a  thoroughly  sentimental  man  is  capable,  he  left 
the  Palazzo  Conti  on  the  day  following  the  adventure, 
and  took  rooms  in  a  hotel  in  the  upper  part  of  the  city. 
Nothing  would  have  induced  him  to  spend  a  night  in 
his  room  since  Sabina's  head  had  lain  upon  his  pillow. 
With  Volterra's  powerful  help,  Masin  had  been  released, 
though  poor  Sassi  had  not  returned  to  consciousness, 
and  Malipieri  learned  that  the  old  man  had  changed  his 
mind  at  the  last  minute,  had  insisted  upon  tryiiig  to  fol 
low  Sabina  after  all,  and  had  fallen  heavily  upon  his 
head  in  trying  to  get  down  into  the  first  chamber  ; 
while  Masin,  behind  him,  implored  him  to  come  back, 
or  at  least  to  wait  for  help  where  he  was.  The  rest 
needs  no  explanation. 

Malipieri  took  a  few  things  with  him  to  the  hotel, 
and  left  Masin  to  collect  his  papers  and  books  on  the 
following  day,  instructing  him  to  send  the  scanty  furni 
ture,  linen  and  household  belongings  to  the  nearest 
auction  rooms,  to  be  sold  at  once.  Masin,  none  the  worse 
for  a  night  and  day  in  prison,  came  back  to  his  functions 
as  if  nothing  had  happened.  He  and  his  master  had 
been  in  more  than  one  adventure  together.  This  one 
was  over  and  he  was  quite  ready  for  the  next. 

There  was  probably  not  another  man  in  Italy,  and 
there  are  not  many  alive  anywhere,  who  would  have 
done  what  Malipieri  did,  out  of  pure  sentiment  and 
nothing  else.  To  him,  it  seemed  like  a  natural  sacrifice 
to  his  inward  honour,  to  refuse  which  would  have  been 
cowardly.  He  had  weakly  allowed  himself  to  fall  in 
love  with  a  girl  whom  he  could  not  possibly  marry,  and 


THE   HEART   OF   KOME  337 

whom  he  respected  as  much  as  he  loved.  He  guessed, 
though  he  tried  to  deny  it,  that  she  was  more  than  half 
in  love  with  him,  since  love  sometimes  comes  by  halves. 
To  lie  where  she  had  lain,  dreaming  of  her  with  his 
aching  eyes  open  and  his  blood  on  fire,  would  be  a 
violation  of  her  maiden  privacy,  morally  not  much  less 
cowardly  in  the  spirit  than  it  could  have  been  in  the 
letter,  since  he  could  not  marry  her. 

The  world  laughs  at  such  refinements  of  delicate  feel 
ing  in  a  man,  but  cannot  help  inwardly  respecting 
them  a  little,  as  it  respects  many  things  at  which  it 
jeers  and  rails.  Moreover,  Malipieri  did  not  care  a  fig 
for  the  world's  opinion,  and  if  he  had  needed  to  take  a 
motto  he  would  have  chosen  "  Si  omnes,  ego  non  "  ;  for 
if  there  was  a  circumstance  which  always  inclined  him 
to  do  anything  especially  quixotic,  it  was  the  conviction 
that  other  people  would  probably  do  the  exact  opposite. 
So  Masin  took  the  furniture  to  an  auction  room  on  a 
cart,  and  Malipieri  never  saw  it  again. 

While  the  press  was  ringing  his  praises,  and  he  him 
self  was  preparing  a  carefully  written  paper  on  the  two 
statues,  while  the  public  was  pouring  into  the  gate  of 
the  Palazzo  Conti  to  see  them,  and  Volterra  was  driving 
a  hard  bargain  with  the  government  for  their  sale,  he 
lived  in  a  state  of  anxiety  and  nervousness  impossible 
to  describe.  He  was  haunted  by  the  fear  that  some 
one  might  find  out  where  Sabina  had  been  on  the  night 
after  she  had  left  Volterra's  house,  and  the  mere  thought 
of  such  a  possibility  was  real  torment,  worse  than  the 
knowledge  that  he  could  never  marry  her,  and  that 


338  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

without  her  his  life  did  not  seem  worth  living.  What 
ever  happened  to  Sabina  would  be  the  result  of  his 
folly  in  taking  her  to  the  vaults.  He  might  recover 
from  any  wound  he  had  himself  received,  but  to  see  the 
good  name  of  the  innocent  girl  he  loved  utterly  ruined 
and  dragged  through  the  mud  of  newspaper  scandal 
would  be  a  good  deal  worse  than  being  flayed  alive. 
It  was  horrible  to  think  of  it,  and  yet  he  could  not  keep 
it  out  of  his  thoughts.  There  had  been  too  many  peo 
ple  about  the  palace  on  the  morning  when  Sabina  had 
left  it  with  the  Baroness.  Especially,  there  had  been 
that  carpenter,  of  whom  no  one  had  thought  till  it  was 
too  late.  If  Gigi  had  recognized  Sabina,  that  would  be 
Malipieri's  fault  too,  for  Volterra  had  not  known  that 
the  man  had  been  employed  about  the  house  for  years. 
A  week  passed,  and  nothing  happened.  He  had 
neither  seen  Sabina  nor  heard  of  her  from  any  one. 
He  was  besieged  by  journalists,  artists,  men  of  letters 
and  men  of  learning,  and  the  municipal  authorities  had 
declared  their  intention  of  giving  a  banquet  in  his 
honour  and  Volterra's,  to  celebrate  the  safe  removal  of 
the  two  statues  from  the  vault  in  which  they  had  lain 
so  long.  He,  who  hated  noisy  feasting  and  speech- 
making  above  all  things,  could  not  refuse  the  public 
invitation.  All  sorts  of  people  came  to  see  him,  in 
connection  with  the  whole  affair,  and  he  was  at  last 
obliged  to  shut  himself  in  during  several  hours  of 
the  day,  in  order  to  work  at  his  dissertation.  Masin 
alone  was  free  to  reach  him  in  case  of  any  urgent 
necessity. 


THE   HEART   OF   EOME  339 

One  morning,  while  he  was  writing,  surrounded  by 
books,  drawings  and  papers,  Masin  came  and  stood 
silently  at  his  elbow,  waiting  till  it  should  please 
him  to  look  up.  Malipieri  carefully  finished  the  sen 
tence  he  had  begun,  and  laid  down  his  pen.  Then 
Masin  spoke. 

*'  There  is  a  lady  downstairs,  sir,  who  says  that  you 
will  certainly  receive  her  upon  very  important  busi 
ness.  She  would  not  give  her  name,  but  told  the 
porter  to  try  and  get  me  to  hand  you  this  note." 

Malipieri  sighed  wearily  and  opened  the  note  with 
out  even  glancing  at  the  address.  He  knew  that  Sa- 
bina  would  not  write  to  him,  and  110  one  else  interested 
him  in  the  least.  But  he  looked  at  the  signature 
before  reading  the  lines,  and  his  expression  changed. 
The  dowager  Princess  Conti  wrote  a  few  words  to 
say  that  she  must  see  him  at  once  and  was  waiting. 
That  was  all,  but  his  heart  sank.  He  sent  Masin  to 
show  her  the  way,  and  sat  resting  his  forehead  in  his 
hand  until  she  appeared. 

She  entered  and  stood  before  him,  softly  magnifi 
cent  as  a  sunset  in  spring  ;  looking  as  even  a  very 
stout  woman  of  fifty  can,  if  she  has  a  matchless  com 
plexion,  perfect  teeth,  splendid  eyes,  faultless  taste, 
a  wonderful  dressmaker  and  a  maid  who  does  not 
hate  her. 

Malipieri  vaguely  wondered  how  Sabina  could  be 
her  daughter,  drew  an  armchair  into  place  for  her,  and 
sat  down  again  by  his  writing-table.  The  windows 
were  open  and  the  blinds  were  drawn  together  to  keep 


340  THE   HEART   OF    ROME 

out  the  glare,  for  it  was  a  hot  day.  A  vague  and 
delicious  suggestion  of  Florentine  orris-root  spread 
through  the  warm  air  as  the  Princess  sat  down.  Mali- 
pieri  watched  her  face,  but  her  expression  showed  no 
signs  of  any  inward  disturbance. 

"Are  you  sure  that  nobody  will  interrupt  us?"  she 
asked,  as  Masin  went  out  and  shut  the  door. 

"  Quite  sure.     What  can  I  do  to  serve  you  ?  " 

"I  have  had  this  disgusting  letter." 

She  produced  a  small,  coarse  envelope  from  the  pale 
mauve  pocket-book  she  carried  in  her  hand,  and  held  it 
out  to  Malipieri,  who  took  it  and  read  it  carefully.  It 
was  not  quite  easy  for  him  to  understand,  as  Gigi  wrote 
in  the  Roman  dialect  without  any  particular  punctua 
tion,  and  using  capitals  whenever  it  occurred  to  him, 
except  at  the  beginning  of  a  sentence.  To  Malipieri, 
as  a  Venetian,  it  was  at  first  sight  about  as  easy  as  a 
chorus  of  ^Eschylus  looks  to  an  average  pass-man. 

As  the  sense  became  clear  to  him,  his  eyelids  con 
tracted  and  his  face  was  drawn  as  if  he  were  in  bodily 
pain. 

"  When  did  you  get  this  ?  "  he  asked,  folding  the  let 
ter  and  putting  it  back  into  the  envelope. 

"  Five  or  six  days  ago,  I  think.  I  am  not  sure  of 
the  date,  but  it  does  not  matter.  It  says  the  money 
must  be  paid  in  ten  days,  does  it  not  ?  Yes  —  some 
thing  like  that.  I  know  there  is  some  time  left.  I 
have  come  to  you  because  I  have  tried  everything  else." 

"Everything  else?"  cried  Malipieri,  in  sudden  anxi 
ety.  "  What  in  the  world  have  you  tried  ?  " 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  341 

"  I  sent  for  Volterra  the  day  after  I  got  this." 

"  Oh  !  "  Malipieri  was  somewhat  relieved.  "  What 
did  he  advise  you  to  do  ?  To  employ  a  detective  ?  " 

"  O  dear,  no !  Nothing  so  simple  and  natural. 
That  man  is  an  utter  brute,  and  I  am  sorry  I  left 
Sabina  so  long  with  his  wife.  She  would  have  been 
much  better  in  the  convent  with  her  sister.  I  am 
afraid  that  is  where  she  will  end,  poor  child,  and  it  will 
be  all  your  fault,  though  you  never  meant  any  harm. 
You  do  not  think  you  could  divorce  and  marry  her,  do 
you  ?  " 

Malipieri  stared  at  her  a  moment,  and  then  bit  his 
lip  to  check  the  answer.  He  had  no  right  to  resent 
whatever  she  chose  to  say  to  him,  for  he  was  responsi 
ble  for  all  the  trouble  and  for  Sabina's  good  name. 

"  There  is  no  divorce  law  in  Italy,"  he  answered,  con 
trolling  himself.  "  Why  do  you  say  that  Volterra  is 
an  utter  brute  ?  What  did  he  advise  you  to  do  ?  " 

"  He  offered  to  silence  the  creature  who  wrote  this 
letter  if  I  would  make  a  bargain  with  him.  He  said 
he  would  pay  the  money,  if  I  would  give  Sabina  to  his 
second  son,  who  is  a  cavalry  officer  in  Turin,  and  whom 
none  of  us  has  ever  seen." 

Malipieri's  lips  moved,  but  he  said  nothing  that 
could  be  heard.  A  vein  that  ran  down  the  middle  of 
his  forehead  was  swollen,  and  there  was  a  bad  look  in 
his  eyes. 

"  I  would  rather  see  the  child  dead  than  married 
to  one  of  those  disgusting  people,"  the  Princess  said. 
"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  impertinence  ?  " 


342  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"You  let  her  live  with  them  for  more  than  two 
months,"  observed  Malipieri. 

"  I  know  I  did.  It  was  simply  impossible  to  think 
of  anything  better  in  the  confusion,  and  as  they  offered 
to  take  charge  of  her,  I  consented.  Yes,  it  was  foolish, 
but  I  did  not  suppose  that  they  would  let  her  go  off  in 
a  cab  with  that  old  dotard  and  stay  out  all  night." 

Malipieri  felt  as  if  she  were  driving  a  blunt  nail  into 
his  head. 

"Poor  Sassi!"  he  said.  "He  was  buried  yester 
day." 

"  Was  he  ?  I  am  not  in  the  least  sorry  for  him.  He 
always  made  trouble,  and  this  was  the  worst  of  all. 
Sabina  almost  cried  because  I  would  not  let  her  go  and 
see  him  at  the  hospital.  You  know,  he  never  spoke 
after  he  was  taken  there  —  he  did  not  feel  anything." 

Malipieri  wondered  whether  the  Princess,  in  another 
sense,  had  ever  felt  anything,  a  touch  of  real  pity,  or 
real  love,  for  any  human  being.  He  did  not  remem 
ber  to  have  ever  met  a  woman  who  had  struck  him  as 
so  utterly  heartless ;  and  yet  he  could  not  forget  the 
look  that  had  come  into  her  face,  and  the  simple  words 
she  had  spoken,  when  he  had  told  her  his  story. 

"  I  understand  that  you  refused  Volterra's  proposal," 
he  said,  returning  to  the  present  trouble.  "Do  you 
mean  to  say  that  he  declined  to  help  you  unless  you 
would  accept  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  He  only  said  that  as  I  was  not  disposed 
to  accept  what  would  make  it  so  much  easier,  he  would 
have  to  think  it  over.  I  have  not  seen  him  since." 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  343 

"  But  you  understand  what  he  had  planned,  do  you 
not?"  Malipieri  asked.  "It  is  very  simple." 

"It  is  not  so  clear  to  me.  I  am  not  at  all  clever, 
you  know."  The  Princess  laughed  carelessly.  "He 
must  have  a  very  good  reason  for  offering  to  pay  a 
hundred  thousand  francs  in  order  that  his  son  may 
marry  Sabina,  who  has  not  a  penny.  I  confess,  if  it 
were  not  an  impertinence,  it  would  look  like  a  foolish 
caprice.  I  suppose  he  thinks  it  would  be  socially 
advantageous. " 

Her  lip  curled  and  showed  her  even  white  teeth. 

"  His  wife  is  a  snob,"  Malipieri  answered,  "  but 
Volterra  does  not  care  for  anything  but  power  and 
money,  except  perhaps  for  the  sort  of  reputation  he 
has,  which  helps  him  to  get  both." 

"Then  of  what  possible  use  could  it  be  to  him  to 
marry  his  son  to  Sabina,  and  to  throw  all  that  money 
away  for  the  sake  of  getting  her  ?  " 

Malipieri  hesitated,  not  sure  whether  it  would  be 
wise  to  tell  her  all  he  thought. 

"  In  the  first  place,"  he  said  slowly,  "  I  do  not  believe 
he  would  really  pay  the  blackmail,  or  if  he  did,  he 
would  catch  the  man,  get  the  money  back,  and  have 
him  sent  to  penal  servitude.  He  is  very  clever,  and 
in  his  position  he  can  have  whatever  help  he  asks  from 
the  government,  especially  in  a  just  cause,  as  that 
would  be.  Perhaps  he  thinks  that  he  has  guessed  who 
the  man  is." 

"  Have  you  any  idea  ?  "  asked  the  Princess,  glancing 
down  at  the  dirty  little  letter  she  still  held. 


344  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"  In  the  second  place,"  Malipieri  continued,  without 
heeding  the  question,  "I  am  almost  sure  that  when 
you  were  in  difficulties,  two  or  three  months  ago,  he 
got  the  better  of  you,  as  he  gets  the  better  of  every 
one.  With  the  value  of  these  statues,  he  has  probably 
pocketed  a  couple  of  million  francs  by  the  trans 
action." 

"  The  wretch  1 "  exclaimed  the  Princess.  "  I  wish 
you  were  my  lawyer  !  You  have  such  a  clear  way  of 
putting  things." 

Even  then  Malipieri  smiled. 

"  I  have  always  believed  what  I  have  just  told  you," 
he  answered.  "  That  was  the  reason  why  I  hoped  that 
Donna  Sabina  might  yet  recover  what  she  should  have 
had  from  the  estate.  Volterra  is  sure  that  if  you  can 
take  proper  steps,  you  will  recover  a  large  sum,  and 
that  is  why  he  is  so  anxious  to  marry  his  son  to  your 
daughter.  He  thinks  the  match  would  settle  the  whole 
affair." 

"  The  idiot  !  As  if  I  did  not  need  the  money  my 
self  !  " 

Again  Malipieri  smiled. 

"  But  you  will  not  get  it,"  he  answered.  "  You 
will  certainly  not  get  it  if  Volterra  is  interested  in 
the  matter,  for  it  will  all  go  to  your  daughter.  Your 
other  two  children  have  had  their  share  of  their  father's 
estate,  and  that  of  the  daughters  should  have  amounted 
to  at  least  two  millions  each.  But  Donna  Sabina  has 
never  had  a  penny.  Whatever  is  recovered  from 
Volterra  will  go  to  her,  not  to  you." 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  345 

"  It  would  be  the  same  thing,"  observed  the  Princess 
carelessly. 

"Not  exactly,"  Malipieri  said,  "for  the  court  will 
appoint  legal  guardians,  and  the  money  will  be  paid 
to  her  intact  when  she  comes  of  age.  In  other  words, 
if  she  marries  Volterra's  son,  the  little  fortune  will 
return  to  Volterra's  family.  But  of  course,  if  you 
consented  to  the  marriage,  he  would  compromise  for 
the  money,  before  the  suit  was  brought,  by  settling 
the  two  millions  upon  his  daughter-in-law,  and  if  he 
offered  to  do  that,  as  he  would,  no  respectable  lawyer 
in  the  world  would  undertake  to  carry  on  the  suit, 
because  Volterra  would  have  acted  in  strict  justice. 
Do  you  see  ?  " 

44  Yes.  It  is  very  disappointing,  but  I  suppose  you 
are  right." 

"  I  know  I  am,  except  about  the  exact  sum  involved. 
I  am.  an  architect  by  profession,  I  know  something  of 
Yolterra's  affairs  and  I  do  not  think  I  am  very  far 
wrong.  Very  good.  But  Volterra  has  accidentally 
got  hold  of  a  terrible  weapon  against  you,  in  the 
shape  of  this  blackmailer's  letter." 

"  Then  you  advise  me  to  accept  his  offer  after  all  ?  " 

"  He  knows  that  you  must,  unless  you  can  find  some 
thing  better.  You  are  in  his  power." 

"  But  why  should  I,  if  I  am  to  get  nothing  by  it  ?  " 
asked  the  Princess  absent-mindedly. 

"There  is  Donna  Sabina's  good  name  at  stake," 
Malipieri  answered,  with  a  little  sternness. 

"  I  had  forgotten.    Of  course  !    How  stupid  of  me !  " 


346  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

For  a  moment  Malipieri  knew  that  he  should  like  to 
box  her  ears,  woman  though  she  was ;  then  he  felt  a 
sort  of  pity  for  her,  such  as  one  feels  for  half-witted 
creatures  that  cannot  help  themselves  nor  control  their 
instincts. 

"Then  I  must  accept,  and  let  Sabina  marry  that 
man,"  she  said,  after  a  moment's  silence.  "  Tell  me 
frankly,  is  that  what  you  think  I  ought  to  do  ?  " 

"  If  Donna  Sabina  wishes  to  marry  him,  it  will  be  a 
safe  solution,"  Malipieri  answered  steadily. 

"  My  dear  man,  she  is  in  love  with  you !  "  cried  the 
Princess  in  one  of  her  sudden  fits  of  frankness.  "  She 
told  me  so  the  other  day  in  so  many  words,  when  she 
was  so  angry  because  I  would  not  let  her  go  to  see 
poor  old  Sassi  die.  She  said  that  you  and  he  and  her 
schoolmistress  were  the  only  human  beings  who  had 
ever  been  good  to  her,  or  for  whom  she  had  ever  cared. 
You  may  just  as  well  know  it,  since  you  cannot  marry 
her !  " 

In  a  calmer  moment,  Malipieri  might  have  doubted 
the  logic  of  the  last  statement ;  but  at  the  present 
moment  he  was  not  very  calm,  and  he  turned  a  pencil 
nervously  in  his  fingers,  standing  it  alternately  on  its 
point  and  its  blunt  end,  upon  the  blotting-paper  beside 
him,  and  looking  at  the  marks  it  made. 

"  How  can  she  possibly  wish  to  marry  that  Volterra 
creature?"  asked  the  Princess,  by  way  of  conclusion. 
"  She  will  have  to,  that  is  all,  whether  she  likes  it  or 
not.  After  all,  nobody  seems  to  care  much,  nowadays," 
she  added  in  a  tone  of  reflection.  "  It  is  only  the  idea. 


THE  HEART   OF  ROME  347 

I  always  heard  that  Volterra  kept  a  pawnshop  in 
Florence,  and  then  became  a  dealer  in  bric-a-brac,  and 
afterwards  a  banker,  and  all  sorts  of  things.  But  it 
may  not  be  true,  and  after  all,  it  is  only  prejudice. 
A  banker  may  be  a  very  respectable  person,  you 
know." 

"Certainly,"  assented  Malipieri,  wishing  that  he  could 
feel  able  to  smile  at  her  absurd  talk,  as  a  sick  man 
wishes  that  he  could  feel  hungry  when  he  sees  a  dish 
he  likes  very  much,  and  only  feels  the  worse  for  the 
mere  thought  of  touching  food. 

"  Nothing  but  prejudice,"  the  Princess  repeated.  "  I 
daresay  he  was  never  really  a  pawnbroker  and  is  quite 
respectable.  By  the  bye,  do  you  think  he  wrote  this 
letter  himself  ?  It  would  be  just  like  him." 

"  No,"  Malipieri  answered.  "  I  am  sure  he  did  not. 
Volterra  never  did  anything  in  his  life  which  could  not 
at  least  be  defended  in  law.  The  letter  is  genuine." 

"  Then  there  is  some  one  who  knows,  besides  our 
selves  and  Volterra  and  his  wife  ?  " 

"  Yes.     I  am  sure  of  it." 

"  You  are  so  clever.  You  must  be  able  to  find  out 
who  it  is." 

"  I  will  try.  But  I  am  sure  of  one  thing.  Even  if 
the  money  is  not  paid  on  the  day,  the  story  will  not  be 
published  at  once.  The  man  will  try  again  and  again 
to  get  money  from  you.  There  is  plenty  of  time." 

"  Unless  it  is  a  piece  of  servants'  vengeance,"  the 
Princess  said.  "  Our  servants  were  always  making 
trouble  before  we  left  the  palace,  I  could  never  under- 


348  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

stand  why.  If  it  is  that,  we  shall  never  be  safe.  Will 
you  come  and  see  me,  if  you  think  of  any  plan?  " 

She  rose  to  go. 

"  I  will  go  to  the  Embassy  to-morrow  afternoon,  be 
tween  three  and  four." 

"Thanks.  Do  you  know?  I  really  cannot  help 
liking  you,  though  I  think  you  are  behaving  abomina 
bly.  I  am  sure  you  could  get  a  divorce  in  Switzerland." 

"  We  will  not  talk  about  that,"  Malipieri  answered, 
a  little  harshly. 

When  she  was  gone,  he  called  Masin,  and  then, 
instead  of  explaining  what  he  wanted,  he  threw  him 
self  into  an  armchair  and  sat  in  silence  for  nearly  half 
an  hour.  Masin  was  used  to  his  master's  ways  and 
did  not  speak,  but  occupied  himself  in  noiselessly 
dusting  the  mantelpiece  at  least  a  hundred  times 
over. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

VOLTERRA  had  not  explained  to  the  Princess  the 
reason  why  her  acceptance  of  his  offer  would  make  it 
so  much  easier  for  him  to  help  her  out  of  her  difficulty. 
He  had  only  said  that  it  would,  for  he  never  explained 
anything  to  a  woman  if  an  explanation  could  be  avoided, 
and  he  had  found  that  there  are  certain  general  ways 
of  stating  things  to  which  women  will  assent  rather 
than  seem  not  to  understand.  If  the  Princess  had 
asked  questions,  he  would  have  found  plausible  an 
swers,  but  she  did  not.  She  refused  his  offer,  saying 
that  she  had  other  views  for  her  daughter.  She 
promptly  invented  a  rich  cousin  in  Poland,  who  had 
fallen  in  love  with  Sabina's  photograph  and  was  only 
waiting  for  her  to  be  eighteen  years  old  in  order  to 
marry  her. 

She  had  gone  to  Malipieri  as  a  last  resource,  not 
thinking  it  probable  that  he  could  help  her,  or  that  he 
would  change  his  mind  and  try  to  free  himself  in  order 
to  marry  Sabina.  She  came  back  with  the  certainty 
that  he  would  not  do  the  latter  and  could  not  give  any 
real  assistance.  So  far,  she  had  not  spoken  to  Sabina 
of  her  interview  with  the  Baron,  but  she  felt  that  the 
time  had  come  to  sound  her  on  the  subject  of  the  mar 
riage,  since  there  might  not  be  any  other  way.  She 

349 


350  THE   HEART   OF    HOME 

had  not  lost  time  since  her  arrival,  for  she  had  at  once 
seen  one  of  the  best  lawyers  in  Rome,  who  looked  after 
such  legal  business  as  the  Russian  Embassy  occasionally 
had ;  and  he  had  immediately  applied  for  a  revision  of 
the  settlement  of  the  Conti  affairs,  on  the  ground  of 
large  errors  in  the  estimates  of  the  property,  support 
ing  his  application  with  the  plea  that  many  of  the  pro 
ceedings  in  the  matter  had  been  technically  faulty 
because  certain  documents  should  have  been  signed  by 
Sabina,  as  a  minor  interested  in  the  estate,  and  whose 
consent  was  necessary.  He  was  of  opinion  that  the 
revision  would  certainly  be  granted,  but  he  would  say 
nothing  as  to  the  amount  which  might  be  recovered  by 
the  Conti  family.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  settlement 
had  been  made  hastily,  between  Volterra,  old  Sassi  and 
a  notary  who  was  not  a  lawyer ;  and  Volterra,  who 
knew  what  he  was  about,  and  profited  largely  by  it, 
had  run  the  risk  of  a  revision  being  required.  For 
the  rest,  Malipieri's  explanation  of  his  motives  was 
the  true  one. 

At  the  first  suggestion  of  a  marriage  with  Volterra's 
son  Sabina  flatly  refused  to  entertain  the  thought.  She 
made  no  outcry,  she  did  not  even  raise  her  voice,  nor 
change  colour;  but  she  planted  her  little  feet  firmly 
together  on  the  footstool  before  her  chair,  folded  her 
hands  in  her  lap  and  looked  straight  at  her  mother. 

"  I  will  not  marry  him,"  she  said.  "  It  is  of  no  use 
to  try  to  make  me.  I  will  not." 

Her  mother  began  to  draw  a  flattering  though  imagi 
nary  portrait  of  the  young  cavalry  officer,  and  enlarged 


THE   HEART   OP   BOMB  351 

upon  his  fortune  and  future  position.  Volterra  was 
immensely  rich,  and  though  he  was  not  quite  one  of 
themselves,  society  had  accepted  him,  his  sons  had  been 
admirably  brought  up,  and  would  be  as  good  as  any 
one.  There  was  not  a  prince  in  Rome  who  would  not 
be  glad  to  make  such  a  match  for  his  daughter. 

"  It  is  quite  useless,  mother,"  said  Sabina.  "  I  would 
not  marry  him  if  he  were  Prince  Colonna  and  had  the 
Rothschilds'  money." 

"  That  is  absurd,"  answered  the  Princess.     "Just  be 
cause  you  have  taken  a  fancy  to  that  Malipieri,  who 
cannot  marry  you  because  he  has  done  the  most  insane 
thing  any  one  ever  heard  of." 
£"  It  was  splendid,"  Sabina  retorted. 

"  Besides,"  her  mother  said,  "  you  do  not  know  that 
it  is  true." 

Sabina's  eyes  flashed. 

"  Whatever  he  says,  is  true,"  she  answered,  "  and  you 
know  it  is.  He  never  lied  in  his  life  !  " 

"No,"  said  the  Princess,  "I  really  think  he  never 
did." 

"  Then  why  did  you  suggest  such  a  thing,  when  you 
know  that  I  love  him  ?  " 

"  One  says  things,  sometimes,"  replied  the  Princess 
vaguely.  "  I  did  not  really  mean  it,  and  I  cannot  help 
liking  the  man.  I  told  him  so  this  morning.  Now 
listen.  Volterra  is  a  perfect  beast,  and  if  you  refuse, 
he  is  quite  capable  of  letting  that  story  get  about,  and 
you  will  be  ruined." 

"  I  will  go  into  a  convent." 


352  THE  HEART   OF   ROME 

"You  know  that  you  hate  Clementina,"  observed 
the  Princess. 

"  Of  course  I  do.  She  used  to  beat  me  when  I  was 
small,  because  she  said  I  was  wicked.  Of  course  I  hate 
her.  I  shall  join  the  Little  Sisters  of  the  Poor,  or  be  a 
Sister  of  Charity.  Even  Clementina  could  not  object 
to  that,  I  should  think." 

"  You  are  a  little  fool  !  " 

To  this  observation  Sabina  made  no  reply,  for  it  was 
not  new  to  her,  and  she  paid  no  attention  to  it.  She 
supposed  that  all  mothers  called  their  children  fools 
when  they  were  angry.  It  was  one  of  the  privileges  of 
motherhood. 

The  discussion  ended  there,  for  Sabina  presently 
went  away  and  shut  herself  up  in  her  room,  leaving 
her  mother  to  meditate  in  solitude  on  the  incredible 
difficulties  that  surrounded  her. 

Sabina  was  thinking,  too,  but  her  thoughts  ran  in 
quite  another  direction,  as  she  sat  bolt  upright  on  a 
straight-backed  chair,  staring  at  the  wall  opposite. 
She  was  wondering  how  Malipieri  looked  at  that 
moment,  and  how  it  was  possible  that  she  should  not 
even  have  seen  him  since  she  had  left  his  rooms  with  the 
Baroness  a  week  ago,  and  more  ;  and  why,  when  every 
hour  had  dragged  like  an  age,  it  seemed  as  if  they  had 
parted  only  yesterday,  sure  to  meet  again. 

She  sat  still  a  long  time,  trying  to  think  out  a  future 
for  herself,  a  future  life  without  Malipieri  and  yet 
bearable.  It  would  have  been  easy  before  the  night 
in  the  vaults  ;  it  would  have  seemed  possible  a  week 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  353 

ago,  though  very  hard  ;  now,  it  was  beyond  her  imagi 
nation.  She  had  talked  of  entering  a  sisterhood,  but 
she  knew  that  she  did  not  mean  to  do  it,  even  if  her 
reputation  were  ruined. 

She  guessed  that  in  that  event  her  mother  would  try 
to  force  her  into  a  convent.  The  Princess  was  not  the 
sort  of  woman  who  would  devote  the  rest  of  her  life 
to  consoling  her  disgraced  daughter,  no  matter  how 
spotlessly  blameless  the  girl  might  be.  She  would  look 
upon  her  as  a  burden  and  a  nuisance,  would  shut  her 
up  if  she  could,  and  would  certainly  go  off  to  Russia  or 
to  Paris,  to  amuse  herself  as  far  as  possible  from  the 
scene  of  Sabina's  unfortunate  adventure. 

"  Poor  child  !  "  she  would  say  to  her  intimate  friends. 
"  She  was  perfectly  innocent,  of  course,  but  there  was 
nothing  else  to  be  done.  No  decent  man  would  have 
married  her,  you  know  !  " 

And  she  would  tell  Malipieri's  story  to  everybody, 
too,  to  explain  why  he  had  not  married  Sabina.  She 
had  no  heart  at  all,  for  her  children  or  for  any  one  else. 
She  had  always  despised  her  son  for  his  weaknesses  and 
miserable  life,  and  she  had  always  laughed  at  her  elder 
daughter  ;  if  she  had  been  relatively  kind  to  Sabina, 
it  was  because  the  girl  had  never  given  any  trouble  nor 
asked  for  anything  extravagantly  inconvenient.  She 
had  never  felt  the  least  sympathy  with  the  Roman  life 
into  which  she  had  been  brought  by  force,  and  after  her 
husband  had  died  she  had  plainly  shown  his  quiet 
Roman  relatives  what  she  thought  of  them. 

She  would  cast  Sabina  off   without  even  a  careless 

2A 


354  THE  HEART   OF   ROME 

kind  word,  if  Sabina  became  a  drag  ou  her  and  hin 
dered  her  from  doing  what  she  pleased  in  the  world. 
And  this  would  happen,  if  the  story  about  the  night 
in  the  Palazzo  Conti  were  made  public.  Just  so  long, 
and  no  longer,  would  the  Princess  acknowledge  her 
daughter's  existence  ;  and  that  meant  so  long  as  Vol- 
terra  chose  that  the  secret  should  be  kept. 

At  least,  Sabina  thought  so.  But  matters  turned 
out  differently  and  were  hurried  to  an  issue  in  a 
terribly  unexpected  way. 

Both  Volterra  and  Malipieri  had  guessed  that  the 
anonymous  letter  had  been  written  by  Gigi,  the  car 
penter,  but  Volterra  had  seen  it  several  days  before 
the  Princess  had  shown  it  to  Malipieri.  Not  unnatu 
rally,  the  Baron  thought  that  it  would  be  a  good  move 
to  get  the  man  into  his  power.  Italy  is  probably  not 
the  only  country  where  men  powerful  in  politics  and 
finance  can  induce  the  law  to  act  with  something  more 
than  normal  promptitude,  and  Volterra,  as  usual, 
was  not  going  to  do  anything  illegal.  The  Minister 
of  Justice,  too,  was  one  of  those  men  who  had  been 
fighting  against  the  Sicilian  "mafia"  and  the  Neapoli 
tan  "camorra"  for  many  years,  and  he  hated  all  black 
mailers  with  a  just  and  deadly  hatred.  He  was  also 
glad  to  oblige  the  strong  Senator,  who  was  just  now 
supporting  the  government  with  his  influence  and  his 
millions.  Volterra  was  sure  of  the  culprit's  identity, 
and  explained  that  the  detective  who  had  been  sent 
to  investigate  the  palace  after  Sassi's  accident  had 
seen  the  carpenter  and  would  recognize  him.  Nothing 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  355 

would  be  easier  than  to  send  for  Gigi  to  do  a  job  at 
the  palace,  towards  evening,  to  arrest  him  as  soon  as 
he  came,  and  to  take  him  away  quietly. 

This  was  done,  and  in  twenty-four  hours  Gigi  was 
safely  lodged  in  a  cell  by  himself,  with  orders  that 
he  was  on  no  account  to  be  allowed  any  communica 
tion  with  other  prisoners. 

Then  Volterra  went  to  see  him,  and  instead  of  threat 
ening  him,  offered  him  his  help  if  he  would  only  tell  the 
exact  truth.  Gigi  was  frightened  out  of  his  wits  and 
grasped  at  the  straw,  though  he  did  not  trust  the 
Baron  much.  He  told  what  he  had  done ;  but  with 
the  loyalty  to  friends,  stimulated  by  the  fear  of  ven 
geance,  which  belongs  to  the  Roman  working  man, 
he  flatly  denied  that  he  had  an  accomplice.  Yes,  he 
had  spoken  in  the  letter  of  two  men  who  would  be 
walking  on  the  Via  Appia,  and  he  had  intended  to 
take  his  brother-in-law  with  him,  but  he  said  that  he 
had  not  meant  to  explain  why  he  took  him  until 
the  last  minute.  It  was  a  matter  for  the  galleys ! 
Did  his  Excellency  the  Senator  suppose  that  he  would 
trust  anybody  with  that,  until  it  was  necessary? 

The  consequence  was  that  Gigi  was  kept  quietly 
in  prison  for  a  few  days  before  any  further  steps 
were  taken,  having  been  arrested  at  the  instance  of 
the  Ministry  of  Justice  for  trying  to  extract  black 
mail  from  the  Conti  family,  and  being  undoubtedly 
guilty  of  the  misdeed.  Volterra's  name  did  not 
even  appear  in  the  statement. 

Malipieri  had  not  Volterra's  influence,  and  intended 


356  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

to  try  more  personal  methods  with  the  carpenter; 
but  when  he  appeared  at  the  palace  in  the  afternoon, 
and  asked  the  porter  to  go  and  call  Gigi,  the  old  man 
shook  his  head  and  said  that  Gigi  had  been  in  prison 
three  days,  and  that  nobody  knew  why  he  had  been 
arrested.  The  matter  had  not  even  been  mentioned 
by  the  Messaggero. 

Malipieri  had  never  connected  Toto  with  Gigi,  and 
did  not  even  know  that  the  two  men  were  acquainted 
with  each  other.  He  had  not  the  slightest  doubt  but 
that  it  was  Toto  who  had  caused  the  water  to  rise  in 
the  well,  out  of  revenge,  but  he  knew  that  it  would 
now  be  impossible  to  prove  it.  Strange  to  say,  Mali 
pieri  bore  him  no  grudge,  for  he  knew  the  people  well, 
and  after  all,  he  himself  had  acted  in  a  high-handed 
way.  Nevertheless,  he  asked  the  porter  if  the  man 
were  anywhere  in  the  neighbourhood. 

But  Toto  had  not  been  seen  for  some  time.  He 
had  not  even  been  to  the  wine  shop,  and  was  probably 
at  work  in  some  distant  part  of  Rome.  Perhaps  he 
was  celebrating  his  grandfather's  funeral  with  his 
friends.  Nobody  could  tell  where  he  might  be. 

Malipieri  went  back  to  his  hotel  disconsolately. 
That  evening  he  read  in  the  Italie  that  after  poor 
Sassi  had  been  buried,  the  authorities  had  at  once 
proceeded  to  take  charge  of  his  property  and  effects, 
because  the  old  woman-servant  had  declared  that  he 
had  no  near  relations  in  the  world ;  and  the  notary 
who  had  served  the  Conti  family  had  at  once  produced 
Sassi's  will. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  357 

He  had  left  all  his  little  property,  valued  roughly  at 
over  a  hundred  thousand  francs,  to  Donna  Sabina 
Conti.  Had  any  one  known  it,  the  date  of  the  will 
was  that  of  the  day  on  which  he  had  received  her 
little  note  thanking  him  for  burying  her  canary,  out 
on  Monte  Mario. 

The  notary's  brother  and  son,  notaries  themselves, 
were  named  as  guardians.  The  income  was  to  be  paid 
to  Sabina  at  once,  the  capital  on  her  marriage.  The 
newspaper  paragraph  recalled  the  ruin  of  the  great 
family,  and  spoke  of  the  will  as  a  rare  instance  of 
devotion  in  an  old  and  trusted  servant. 

Sabina  and  the  Princess  learned  the  news  at  dinner 
that  evening  from  a  young  attache  of  the  Embassy  who 
always  read  the  lialie  because  it  is  published  in  French, 
and  he  had  not  yet  learned  Italian.  He  laughingly 
congratulated  Sabina  on  her  accession  to  a  vast  for 
tune.  To  every  one's  amazement,  Sabina's  eyes  filled 
with  tears,  though  even  her  own  mother  had  scarcely 
ever  seen  her  cry.  She  tried  hard  to  control  herself, 
pressed  her  lids  hastily  with  her  fingers,  bit  her  lips 
till  they  almost  bled,  and  then,  as  the  drops  rolled 
down  her  cheeks  in  spite  of  all  she  could  do,  she  left 
the  table  with  a  broken  word  of  excuse. 

"  She  is  nothing  but  a  child,  still,"  the  Princess  ex 
plained  in  a  tone  of  rather  condescending  pity. 

The  young  attache  was  sorry  for  having  laughed 
when  he  told  the  story.  He  had  not  supposed  that  Donna 
Sabina  knew  much  about  the  old  agent,  and  after  dinner 
he  apologized  to  his  ambassador  for  his  lack  of  tact. 


358  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 


. 


"  That  little  girl  has  a  heart  of  gold,"  answered  the 
wise  old  man  of  the  world. 

The  Princess  had  a  profoundly  superstitious  belief 
in  luck,  and  was  convinced  that  Sabina's  and  her  own 
had  turned  with  this  first  piece  of  good  fortune,  and 
that  on  the  following  day  Malipieri  would  appear  and 
tell  her  that  he  had  caught  the  writer  of  the  letter 
and  was  ready  to  divorce  his  wife  in  order  to  marry 
Sabina.  Secure  in  these  hopes  she  slept  eight  hours 
without  waking,  as  she  always  did. 

But  she  was  destined  to  the  most  complete  disap 
pointment  of  her  life,  and  to  spend  one  of  the  most 
horribly  unpleasant  days  she  could  remember. 

Long  before  she  was  awake  boys  and  men,  with 
sheaves  of  damp  papers,  were  yelling  the  news  in  the 
Cor  so  and  throughout  Rome. 

"  The  Messaggero  !  The  great  scandal  in  Casa  Conti ! 
The  Messaggero!  One  sou  !  " 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

TOTO  had  done  it.  In  his  heart,  the  thick-headed, 
practical  fellow  had  never  quite  believed  in  Gigi's  in 
genious  scheme,  and  the  idea  of  getting  a  hundred 
thousand  francs  had  seemed  very  visionary.  Since 
Gigi  had  got  himself  locked  up  it  would  be  more 
sensible  to  realize  a  little  cash  for  the  story  from  the 
Messaggero,  saying  nothing  about  the  carpenter.  The 
only  lie  he  needed  to  invent  was  to  the  effect  that  he 
had  been  standing  near  the  door  of  the  palace  when 
Sabina  had  come  out.  The  porter,  being  relieved  from 
the  order  to  keep  the  postern  shut  against  everybody 
had  been  quite  willing  to  gossip  with  Toto  about  the 
detective's  visit,  the  closed  room  and  Malipieri's  re 
fusal  to  let  any  one  enter  it.  As  for  what  had  hap 
pened  in  the  vaults,  Toto  could  reconstruct  the  exact 
truth  much  more  accurately  than  Gigi  could  have 
done,  even  with  his  help.  It  was  a  thrilling  story ; 
the  newspaper  paid  him  well  for  it  and  printed  it  with 
reservations. 

There  was  not  a  suggestion  of  offence  to  Sabina, 
such  as  might  have  afforded  ground  for  an  action 
against  the  paper,  or  against  those  that  copied  the 
story  from  it.  The  writer  was  careful  to  extol  Mali 
pieri's  heroic  courage  and  strength,  and  to  point  out 

359 


360  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

that  Sabina  had  been  half -dead  of  fatigue  and  cold,  as 
Toto  knew  must  have  been  the  case.  It  was  all  a  justi 
fication,  and  not  in  the  least  an  accusation.  But  the 
plain,  bald  fact  was  proved,  that  Donna  Sabina  Conti 
had  spent  the  night  in  the  rooms  of  the  now  famous 
Signor  Malipieri,  no  one  else  being  in  the  apartment 
during  the  whole  time.  He  had  saved  her  life  like  a 
hero,  and  had  acted  like  a  Bayard  in  all  he  had  done 
for  the  unfortunate  young  lady.  It  was  an  adventure 
worthy  of  the  middle  ages.  It  was  magnificent.  Her 
family,  informed  at  once  by  Malipieri,  had  come  to  get 
her  on  the  following  morning.  Toto  had  told  the  peo 
ple  at  the  office  of  the  Messaggero,  who  it  was  that  had 
represented  the  "  family,"  but  the  little  newspaper  was 
far  too  worldly-wise  to  mention  Volterra  in  such  a  con 
nection.  Donna  Sabina,  the  article  concluded,  was  now 
with  her  mother  at  the  Russian  Embassy. 

The  evening  papers  simply  enlarged  upon  this  first 
story,  and  in  the  same  strain.  Malipieri  was  held  up 
to  the  admiration  of  the  public.  Sabina's  name  was 
treated  with  profound  respect,  there  was  not  a  word 
which  could  be  denied  with  truth,  or  resented  with  a 
show  of  justice.  And  yet,  in  Italy,  and  most  of  all  in 
Rome,  it  meant  ruin  to  Sabina,  and  the  reprobation  of 
all  decent  people  upon  Malipieri  if  he  did  not  immedi 
ately  marry  her. 

It  was  the  ambassador  himself  who  informed  the 
Princess  of  what  had  happened,  coming  himself  to  the 
sitting-room  as  soon  as  he  learned  that  she  was  visible. 
He  stayed  with  her  a  long  time,  and  they  sent  for 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  '   361 

Sabina,  who  was  by  far  the  least  disturbed  of  the  three. 
It  was  all  true,  she  said,  and  there  was  nothing  against 
her  in  the  article. 

Masin  brought  the  news  to  Malipieri  with  his. coffee, 
and  the  paper  itself.  Malipieri  scarcely  ever  read  it, 
but  Masin  never  failed  to,  and  his  big,  healthy  face*  was 
very  grave. 

Malipieri  felt  as  if  he  were  going  to  have  brain 
fever,  as  his  eye  ran  along  the  lines. 

"Masin,"  he  said,  when  he  had  finished,  "did  you 
ever  kill  a  man  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  answered  Masin.  "  You  have  always  be 
lieved  that  I  was  innocent,  though  I  had  to  serve  my 
seven  years." 

"  I  did  not  mean  that,"  said  Malipieri. 

Then  he  sat  a  long  time  with  his  untasted  coffee  at 
his  elbow  and  the  crumpled  little  sheet  in  his  hand. 

"  Of  course,  sir,"  Masin  said  at  last,  "  I  owe  you 
everything,  and  if  you  ordered  me  — " 

He  paused  significantly,  but  his  master  did  not 
understand. 

"  What  ?  "  he  asked,  starting  nervously. 

"  Well,  sir,  if  it  were  necessary  for  your  safety,  that 
somebody  should  be  killed,  I  would  risk  the  galleys  for 
life,  sir.  What  am  I,  without  you  ?  " 

Malipieri  laughed  a  little  wildly,  and  dropped  the 
paper. 

"  No,  my  friend,"  he  said  presently,  "  we  would  risk 
our  lives  for  each  other,  but  we  are  not  murderers. 
Besides,  there  is  nobody  to  be  killed,  unless  you  will 


362  THE   HEART    OF   BOMB 

have  the  goodness  to  put  a  bullet  through  my 
head." 

And  he  laughed  again,  in  a  way  that  frightened  the 
quiet  man  beside  him.  What  drove  him  almost  mad 
was  that  he  was  powerless.  He  longed  to  lay  his 
hands  on  the  editor  of  the  paper,  yet  there  was  not 
a  word,  not  a  suggestion,  not  an  implied  allusion  for 
which  any  man  in  his  senses  could  have  demanded  an 
apology.  It  was  the  plain  truth,  and  nothing  else  ; 
except  that  it  was  adorned  by  fragmentary  panegyrics 
of  himself,  which  made  it  even  more  exasperating  if 
that  were  possible.  He  had  not  only  wrecked  Sabina's 
reputation  by  his  quixotic  folly  ;  he  was  to  be  praised 
to  the  skies  for  doing  it. 

His  feverish  anger  turned  into  a  dull  pain  that  was 
much  worse.  The  situation  looked  utterly  hopeless. 
Masin  stood  still  beside  him  watching  him  with  pro 
found  concern,  and  presently  took  the  cup  of  coffee 
and  held  it  to  his  lips.  He  drank  a  little,  like  a  sick 
man,  only  half  consciously,  and  drew  back,  and  shook 
his  head.  Masin  did  not  know  what  to  do  and  waited 
in  mute  distress,  as  a  big  dog,  knowing  that  his  master 
is  in  trouble,  looks  up  into  his  face  and  feebly  wags  his 
sympathetic  tail,  just  a  little,  at  long  intervals,  and 
then  keeps  quite  still. 

Malipieri  gradually  recovered  his  senses  enough  to 
think  connectedly,  and  he  tried  to  remember  whether 
he  had  ever  heard  of  a  situation  like  his  own.  As 
he  was  neither  a  novelist  nor  a  critic,  he  failed,  and 
frankly  asked  himself  whether  suicide  might  not  be 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  363 

a  way  out  of  the  difficulty  for  Sabina.  He  was  not 
an  unbeliever,  and  he  had  always  abhorred  and  de 
spised  the  idea  of  suicide,  as  most  thoroughly  healthy 
men  do  when  it  occurs  to  them  ;  but  if  at  that  time  he 
could  have  persuaded  himself  that  his  death  could 
undo  the  harm  he  had  brought  upon  Sabina  he  would 
not  have  hesitated  a  moment.  Neither  his  body  nor 
his  soul  could  matter  much  in  comparison  with  her 
good  name.  Hell  was  full  of  people  who  had  got 
there  because  they  had  done  bad  things  for  their  own 
advantage  ;  if  he  went  there,  it  would  at  least  not  be 
for  that.  He  did  not  think  of  hell  at  all,  just  then, 
nor  of  heaven  or  of  anything  else  that  was  very  far 
off.  He  only  thought  of  Sabina,  and  if  he  once  wished 
himself  dead  for  his  own  sake,  he  drove  the  cowardly 
thought  away.  As  long  as  he  was  alive,  he  could  still 
do  something  for  her  —  surely,  there  must  be  some 
thing  that  he  could  do.  There  must  be  a  way  out, 
if  he  could  only  use  his  wits  and  his  strength,  as  he 
had  made  a  way  out  of  the  vaults,  for  her  to  pass 
through,  ten  days  ago. 

There  was  nothing,  or  at  least  he  could  think  of 
nothing,  that  could  help  her.  To  try  and  free  him 
self  from  the  bond  he  had  put  upon  himself  would  be 
to  break  a  solemn  promise  given  to  a  dying  man  whom 
he  had  dearly  loved.  The  woman  he  had  seen  that 
once,  to  marry  her  and  leave  her,  had  been  worthy 
of  the  sacrifice,  too,  as  far  as  lay  in  her.  He  had 
given  her  a  small  income,  enough  for  her  and  her 
little  girl  to  live  on  comfortably.  She  had  not  only 


364  THE   HEART   OF  EOME 

kept  within  it,  but  had  learned  to  support  herself, 
little  by  little,  till  she  had  refused  to  take  the  money 
that  was  sent  to  her.  At  regular  times,  she  wrote  to 
him,  as  to  a  benefactor,  touching  and  truthful  letters, 
with  news  of  the  growing  child.  He  knew  that  it  was 
all  without  affectation  of  any  sort,  and  that  she  had 
turned  out  a  thoroughly  good  and  honest  woman. 
The  little  girl  knew  that  her  father  was  dead,  and  that 
her  own  name  was  really  and  legally  Malipieri,  beyond 
a  doubt.  Her  mother  kept  the  copy  of  her  certificate 
of  birth  together  with  the  certificate  of  marriage.  The 
Signora  Malipieri  lived  as  a  widow  in  Florence  and 
gave  lessons  in  music  and  Italian.  She  had  never 
asked  but  one  thing  of  Malipieri,  which  was  that  he 
would  never  try  to  see  her,  nor  let  her  daughter 
know  that  he  was  alive.  It  was  easy  to  promise  that. 
He  knew  that  she  had  been  most  faithful  to  her  lover's 
memory,  cherishing  the  conviction  that  in  the  justice 
of  heaven  he  was  her  true  husband,  as  he  would  have 
been  indeed  had  he  lived  but  a  few  months  longer. 
She  was  bringing  up  her  child  to  be  like  herself,  save 
for  her  one  fault.  Malipieri  had  settled  a  sufficient 
dowry  on  the  girl,  lest  anything  should  happen  to  him 
before  she  was  old  enough  to  marry. 

The  mere  suggestion  of  divorcing  a  woman  who  had 
acted  as  she  had  done  since  his  friend's  death,  was 
horrible  to  him.  It  was  like  receiving  a  blow  in  the 
face,  it  was  mud  upon  his  honour,  it  was  an  insult  to 
his  conscience,  it  was  far  worse  than  merely  taking 
back  a  gift  once  given  in  a  generous  impulse.  If  he 


THE   HEART   OP   HOME 

had  felt  himself  capable  of  such  baseness  he  could 
never  again  have  looked  honest  men  fairly  in  the  eyes. 
It  would  mean  that  he  must  turn  upon  her,  to  insult 
her  by  accusing  her  of  something  she  had  never  done; 
he  knew  nothing  of  the  divorce  laws  in  foreign  coun 
tries,  except  that  Italians  could  obtain  divorce  by  a 
short  residence  and  could  then  come  back  and  marry 
again  under  Italian  law.  That  was  all  he  knew.  The 
Princess  had  not  asked  of  him  a  legal  impossibility, 
but  he  had  felt,  when  she  spoke,  that  it  would  be 
easier  to  explain  the  dogma  of  papal  infallibility  to  a 
Chinese  pirate  than  to  make  her  understand  how  he 
felt  towards  the  good  woman  who  had  a  right  to  live 
under  his  name  and  had  borne  it  so  honourably  for 
many  years. 

Sabina  would  understand.  He  wished  now,  with  all 
his  heart,  that  in  the  hours  they  had  spent  together  he 
had  told  her  the  secret  which  he  had  been  obliged  to 
confide  to  her  mother.  He  wondered  whether  she 
knew  it,  and  hoped  that  she  did.  She  would  at  least 
understand  his  silence  now,  she  would  know  why  he 
was  not  at  the  Embassy  that  morning  as  soon  as  he 
could  be  received  by  her  mother.  She  might  not  for 
give  him,  because  she  knew  that  he  loved  her,  but  she 
would  see  why  he  could  not  divorce  in  order  to  marry 
her. 

An  hour  passed,  and  two  hours,  and  still  he  sat  in 
his  chair,  while  Masin  came  and  went  softly,  as  if  his 
master  were  ill.  Then  reporters  sent  up  cards,  with 
urgently  polite  requests  to  be  received,  and  he  had  to 


366  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

give  orders  that  he  was  not  to  be  disturbed  on  any 
account.  He  would  see  no  one,  he  would  answer  no 
questions,  until  he  had  made  up  his  mind  what  to  do. 

At  last  he  rose,  shook  himself,  walked  twice  up  and 
down  the  room  and  then  spoke  to  Masin. 

"  I  am  going  out,"  he  said.  "  I  shall  be  back  in  an 
hour." 

He  had  seen  that  there  was  at  least  one  thing 
which  he  must  do  at  once,  and  after  stopping  short, 
stunned  to  stupor  by  what  had  happened,  his  life  began 
to  move  on  again.  It  was  manifestly  his  duty  to  see 
the  Princess  again,  and  he  knew  that  she  would  receive 
him,  for  she  would  think  that  he  had  changed  his  mind 
after  all,  and  meant  to  free  himself.  He  must  see  her 
and  say  something,  he  knew  not  what,  to  convince  her 
that  he  was  acting  honourably. 

He  was  shown  to  her  sitting-room,  as  if  he  were  ex 
pected.  It  was  not  long  since  the  ambassador  had  left 
her  and  her  daughter  had  gone  back  to  her  room,  and 
she  was  in  a  humour  in  which  he  had  not  seen  her 
before,  as  he  guessed  when  he  saw  her  face.  Her 
wonderful  complexion  was  paler  than  usual,  her  brows 
were  drawn  together,  her  eyes  were  angry,  there  was 
nothing  languid  or  careless  in  her  attitude,  and  she  held 
her  head  high. 

"  I  expected  you,"  she  said.  "  I  sent  word  that  you 
were  to  come  up  at  once." 

She  did  not  even  put  out  her  hand,  but  there  was  a 
chair  opposite  her  and  she  nodded  towards  it.  He  sat 
down,  feeling  that  a  struggle  was  before  him. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  367 

"  The  ambassador  has  just  been  here,"  she  said.  "  He 
brought  the  newspaper  with  him,  and  I  have  read  the 
article.  I  suppose  you  have  seen  it." 

Malipieri  bent  his  head,  but  kept  his  eyes  upon  her. 

"  I  have  told  the  ambassador  that  Sabina  is  engaged 
to  marry  you,"  she  said  calmly. 

Malipieri  started  and  sat  upright  in  his  chair.  If  he 
had  known  her  better,  he  might  have  guessed  that  what 
she  said  was  untrue,  as  yet;  but  she  had  made  the 
statement  with  magnificent  assurance. 

"  Your  engagement  will  be  announced  in  the  papers 
this  evening,"  she  continued.  "  Shall  you  deny  it?" 

She  looked  at  him  steadily,  and  he  returned  her  gaze, 
but  for  a  long  time  he  could  not  answer.  She  had  him 
at  a  terrible  advantage. 

"  I  shall  not  deny  it  publicly,"  he  said  at  last.  "  That 
would  be  an  injury  to  your  daughter." 

"  Shall  you  deny  it  at  all  ?  "  She  was  conscious  of  her 
strong  position,  and  meant  to  hold  it. 

"  I  shall  write  to  the  lady  who  is  living  under  my  name, 
and  I  shall  tell  her  the  circumstances,  and  that  I  am 
obliged  to  allow  the  announcement  to  be  made  by  you." 

"  Give  me  your  word  that  you  will  not  deny  your 
engagement  to  any  one  else.  You  know  that  I  have  a 
right  to  require  that.  My  daughter  knows  that  you 
are  married." 

Malipieri  hesitated  only  a  moment. 

"  I  give  you  my  word,"  he  said. 

She  rose  at  once  and  went  towards  one  of  the  doors, 
without  looking  at  him.  He  wondered  whether  she 


368  THE   HEART   OF.  ROME 

meant  to  dismiss  him  rudely,  and  stood  looking  after 
her.  She  stopped  a  moment,  with  her  hand  on  the 
knob  of  the  lock,  and  glanced  back. 

"  I  will  call  Sabina,"  she  said,  and  she  was  gone. 

He  stood  still  and  waited,  and  two  or  three  minutes 
passed  before  Sabina  entered.  She  glanced  at  him, 
smiled  rather  gravely,  and  looked  round  the  room  as 
she  came  forward,  as  if  expecting  to  see  some  one 
else. 

"  Where  is  my  mother  ?  "  she  asked,  holding  out  her 
hand. 

"  She  said  she  was  going  to  call  you,"  Malipieri 
answered. 

"  So  she  did,  and  she  told  me  she  was  coming  back  to 
you,  because  I  was  not  quite  ready." 

"  She  did  not  come  back." 

"  She  means  us  to  be  alone,"  Sabina  said,  and  sud 
denly  she  took  both  his  hands  and  pressed  them  a 
little,  shaking  them  up  and  down,  almost  childishly. 
"  I  am  so  glad !  "  she  cried.  "  I  was  longing  to  see 
you !  " 

Even  then,  Malipieri  could  not  help  smiling,  and  for 
a  moment  he  forgot  all  his  troubles.  When  they  sat 
down,  side  by  side,  upon  a  little  sofa,  the  Princess  was 
already  telling  the  ambassador  that  Malipieri  had  come 
and  that  they  were  engaged  to  be  married.  She  had 
carried  the  situation  by  a  master  stroke. 

"  She  has  told  you  all  about  me,"  Malipieri  said,  turn 
ing  his  face  to  Sabina.  "  You  know  Avhat  my  life  is. 
Has  she  told  you  everything  ?  " 


THE    HEART   OF   ROME  369 

"  Yes,"  Sabina  answered  softly,  but  not  meeting  his 
look,  "  everything.  But  I  want  to  hear  it  from  you. 
Will  you  tell  me  ?  Will  it  hurt  you  to  tell  me  about 
what  you  did  for  your  friend  ?  You  know  my  mother 
is  not  always  very  accurate  in  telling  a  story.  I  shall 
understand  why  you  did  it." 

He  had  known  that  she  would,  and  he  told  her  the 
story,  a  little  less  baldly  than  he  had  told  her  mother, 
yet  leaving  out  such  details  as  she  need  not  hear.  He 
hesitated  a  little,  once  or  twice. 

"  I  understand,"  she  repeated,  watching  him  with 
innocent  eyes.  "  She  felt  just  as  if  they  were  really 
married,  and  he  could  not  bear  to  die,  feeling  that  she 
would  be  without  protection,  and  that  other  men  would 
all  want  to  marry  her,  because  she  was  beautiful.  And 
her  father  and  mother  were  angry  because  she  loved  him 
so  much." 

"  Yes,"  Malipieri  answered,  smiling,  "  that  was  it. 
They  loved  each  other  dearly." 

"  It  was  splendid  of  you,"  she  said.  "I  never  dreamt 
that  any  man  would  do  such  a  thing." 

"  It  cannot  be  undone."  He  was  at  least  free  to  say 
that  much,  sadly. 

There  was  a  pause,  and  they  looked  away  from  each 
other.  At  last  Sabina  laid  her  hand  lightly  upon  his 
for  a  moment,  though  she  did  not  turn  her  face  to 
him. 

"  I  should  not  like  you  so  much,  if  you  wished  to 
undo  it,"  she  said. 

"Thank  you,"  he  answered,  withdrawing  the  hand 

2B 


370  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

she  released  when  she  had  finished  speaking,  and  folding 
it  upon  his  other.  "  I  should  love  you  less,  if  you  did 
not- understand  ine  so  well."  ' 

"  It  is  more  than  understanding.  It  is  much 
more." 

He  remembered  how  he  had  taken  her  slender  body 
in  his  arms  to  warm  her  when  she  had  been  almost  dead 
of  the  cold  and  dampness,  and  a  mad  impulse  was  in  him 
to  press  her  to  him  now,  as  he  had  done  then,  and  to 
feel  her  small  fair  head  lay  itself  upon  his  shoulder 
peacefully,  as  it  surely  would.  He  sat  upright  and 
pressed  one  hand  upon  the  other  rather  harder  than 
before. 

"  You  believe  it,  do  you  not  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Why  is 
your  face  so  hard  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  bound  hand  and  foot,  like  a  man  who 
is  carried  to  execution." 

"  But  we  can  always  love  each  other  just  the  same," 
Sabina  said,  and  her  voice  was  warm  and  soft. 

"  Yes,  always,  and  that  will  not  make  it  easier  to 
live  without  you,"  he  answered  rather  harshly. 

"  You  need  not,"  she  said,  after  an  instant's  pause. 

He  turned  suddenly,  startled,  not  understanding, 
wondering  what  she  could  mean.  She  met  his  eyes 
quite  quietly,  and  he  saw  how  deep  and  steady  hers 
were,  and  the  light  in  them. 

"  You  need  not  live  without  me  unless  you  please," 
she  said. 

"But  I  must,  since  I  cannot  marry  you,  and  you 
understand  that  I  could  not  be  divorced  — " 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  371 

u  My  mother  has  just  told  me  that  no  decent  man 
will  marry  me,  because  all  the  world  knows  that  I 
stayed  at  the  palace  that  night.  She  must  be  right, 
for  she  could  have  no  object  in  saying  it  if  it  were  not 
true,  could  she  ?  Then  what  does  it  matter  how  any 
one  talks  about  me  now?  I  will  go  with  you.  We 
cannot  marry,  but  we  shall  always  be  together." 

Malipieri's  face  expressed  his  amazement. 

"  But  it  is  impossible  !  "  he  cried.  "  You  cannot  do 
that  !  You  do  not  know  what  you  are  saying ! " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  do  !  That  poor,  kind  old  Sassi  has  left 
me  all  he  had,  and  I  can  go  where  I  please.  I  will  go 
with  you.  Would  you  rather  have  me  shut  up  in  a 
convent  to  die  ?  That  is  what  my  mother  will  try  to 
do  with  me,  and  she  will  tell  people  that  I  was  4  mad, 
poor  girl ' !  Do  you  think  I  do  not  know  her  ?  She 
wants  this  little  sum  of  money  that  I  am  to  have,  too, 
as  if  she  and  the  others  had  not  spent  all  I  should  have 
had.  Do  you  think  I  am  bound  to  obey  my  mother, 
if  she  takes  me  to  the  convent  door,  and  tells  me  that  I 
am  to  stay  there  for  the  rest  of  my  life  ?  " 

The  gentle  voice  was  clear  and  strong  and  indignant 
now.  Malipieri  twisted  his  fingers  one  upon  another, 
and  sat  with  his  head  bent  low.  He  knew  that  she 
had  no  clear  idea  of  what  she  was  saying  when  she 
proposed  to  join  her  existence  with  his.  Her  maiden 
thoughts  could  find  no  harm  in  it. 

"  You  do  not  know  what  your  mother  said  to  me, 
before  you  came  in,"  he  answered.  "  She  told  me  that 
she  would  announce  our  engagement  at  once,  and 


372  THE   HEART    OF   ROME 

made  me  give  my  word  that  I  would  not  deny  it  to 
any  one  but  my  legal  wife." 

"  You  gave  your  word  ?  "  Sabina  asked  quickly,  not 
at  all  displeased. 

"  What  could  I  do  ?  " 

"  Nothing  else  !  I  am  glad  you  did,  for  we  can  see 
each  other  as  much  as  we  like  now.  But  how  shall 
we  manage  it  in  the  end,  since  we  cannot  marry  ?  " 

"  Break  the  imaginary  engagement,  I  suppose,"  Mali- 
pieri  answered  gloomily.  "  I  see  nothing  else  to  be 
done." 

"  But  then  my  mother  says  that  no  decent  man  will 
marry  me.  It  will  be  just  the  same,  all  over  again.  It 
was  very  clever  of  her  ;  she  is  trying  to  force  you  to  do 
what  she  wants.  In  the  meantime  you  can  come  and 
see  me  every  day — that  is  the  best  part  of  it.  Besides, 
she  will  leave  us  alone  together  here,  for  hours,  because 
she  thinks  that  the  more  you  fall  in  love  with  me  the 
more  you  will  wish  to  get  a  divorce.  Oh,  she  is  a  very 
clever  woman  !  You  do  not  know  her  as  I  do  !  " 

Malipieri  marvelled  at  the  amazing  combination  of 
girlish  innocence  and  keen  insight  into  her  mother's 
worldly  and  cynical  character,  which  Sabina  had  shown 
during  the  last  few  minutes.  There  never  yet  was  a 
man  in  love  with  girl  or  woman  who  did  not  find  in 
her  something  he  had  never  dreamt  of  before. 

"She  is  clever,"  he  assented  gravely,  "but  she  can 
not  make  me  break  that  promise,  even  for  your  sake. 
I  cannot  help  looking  forward  and  thinking  what  the 
end  must  be." 


THE  HEART   OF   ROME  373 

"  It  is  much  better  to  enjoy  the  present,"  Sabina  an 
swered.  "  We  can  be  together  every  day.  You  will 
write  to  your  —  no,  she  is  not  your  wife,  and  I  will  not 
call  her  so  !  She  would  not  be  really  your  wife  if  she 
could,  for  she  made  you  promise  never  to  go  arid  see 
her.  That  was  nice  of  her,  for  of  course  she  knew  that 
if  she  saw  you  often,  she  must  end  by  falling  in  love 
with  you.  Any  woman  would  ;  you  know  it  perfectly 
well.  You  need  not  shake  your  head  at  me,  like  that. 
You  will  write  to  her,  and  explain,  and  she  will  under 
stand,  and  then  we  will  let  things  go  on  as  long  as 
they  can  till  something  else  happens." 

"  What  can  possibly  happen  ?  " 

"  Something  always  happens.  Things  never  go  on 
very  long  without  a  change,  do  they  ?  I  am  sure, 
everything  in  my  life  has  changed  half  a  dozen  times 
in  the  last  fortnight." 

"  In  mine,  too,"  Malipieri  answered. 

"And  if  things  get  worse,  and  if  worse  comes  to 
worst,"  Sabina  answered,  "  I  have  told  you  what  I 
mean  to  do.  I  shall  come  to  you,  wherever  you  are, 
and  you  will  have  to  let  me  stay,  no  matter  what 
people  choose  to  say.  That  is,  if  you  still  care  for  me  !  " 

She  laughed  softly  and  happily,  and  not  in  the  least 
recklessly,  though  she  was  talking  of  throwing  the 
world  and  all  connection  with  it  to  the  winds.  The 
immediate  future  looked  bright  to  her,  since  they  were 
to  meet  every  day,  and  after  that,  "  something  "  would 
happen.  If  nothing  did,  and  they  had  to  face  trouble 
again,  they  would  meet  it  bravely.  That  was  all  any 


374  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

one  could  do  in  life.  She  had  found  happiness  too 
suddenly  after  an  unhappy  childhood,  to  dream  of 
letting  it  go,  cost  what  it  might  to  keep  it. 

But  she  saw  how  grave  he  looked  and  the  hopeless 
expression  in  his  loving  eyes,  as  he  turned  them  to  her. 

"Why  are  you  sad?"  she  asked,  smiling,  and  laying 
her  hand  on  his.  "  We  can  be  happy  in  the  present. 
We  love  each  other,  and  can  meet  often.  You  have 
made  a  great  discovery  and  are  much  more  famous  than 
you  were  a  few  days  ago.  A  newspaper  has  told  our 
story,  it  is  true,  but  there  was  not  a  word  against 
either  of  us  in  it,  for  I  made  them  let  me  read  it  my 
self.  And  now  people  will  say  that  we  are  engaged  to 
be  married,  and  that  we  got  into  a  foolish  scrape  and 
were  nearly  killed  together,  and  that  we  are  a  very 
romantic  couple,  like  lovers  in  a  book!  Every  girl  I 
know  wishes  she  were  in  my  place,  I  am  sure,  and  half 
the  men  in  Rome  wish  that  they  could  have  saved  some 
girl's  life  as  you  did  mine.  What  is  there  so  very 
dreadful  in  all  that?  What  is  there  to  cry  about  — 
dear  ?  " 

Half  in  banter,  half  in  earnest,  she  spoke  to  him  as  if 
he  were  a  child  compared  with  her,  and  leaned  affec 
tionately  towards  him  ;  and  the  last  word,  the  word 
neither  of  them  had  spoken  yet,  came  so  softly  and 
sweetly  to  him  on  her  breath,  that  he  caught  his  own, 
and  turned  a  little  pale ;  and  the  barriers  broke  all  at 
once,  and  he  kissed  her.  Then  he  got  hold  upon  him 
self  again,  and  gently  pushed  her  a  little  further  from 
him,  while  he  put  his  other  hand  to  his  throat  and  closed 
his  eyes. 


THE   HEART   OF  EOME  375 

"  Forgive  me,"  lie  said,  in  a  thick  voice.  "  I  could 
not  help  it." 

"  What  is  there  to  forgive  ?  We  are  not  betraying 
any  one.  You  are  not  breaking  a  promise  to  any  other 
woman.  What  harm  is  there  ?  You  did  not  give  your 
friend  your  word  that  you  would  never  love  any  one, 
did  you  ?  How  could  you  ?  How  could  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  could  not  know,"  he  answered  in  a  low  voice. 
"  But  I  should  not  have  kissed  you." 

He  knew  that  she  could  not  understand  the  point  of 
honour  that  was  so  clear  to  him. 

"  Let  me  think  for  you,  sometimes,"  she  said. 

Her  voice  was  as  low  as  his,  but  dreamily  passionate, 
and  the  strange  young  magic  vibrated  in  it,  which  per 
fect  innocence  wields  with  a  destroying  strength  not 
even  guessed  at  by  itself. 

The  door  opened  and  the  Princess  entered  the  room 
in  a  leisurely  fashion,  wreathed  in  smiles.  She  had 
successfuly  done  what  it  would  be  very  hard  for  Mali- 
pieri  to  undo.  He  rose. 

"  Have  you  told  Sabina  what  I  said  ? "  she  en 
quired. 

"  Yes." 

She  turned  to  the  girl,  who  was  leaning  back  in  the 
corner  of  the  sofa. 

"  Of  course  you  agree,  my  child  ?  "  she  said,  with  a 
question  in  her  voice,  though  with  no  intonation  of 
doubt  as  to  the  answer. 

"  Certainly,"  Sabina  answered,  with  perfect  self- 
possession.  "  I  think  it  was  by  far  the  most  sensible 


376  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

thing  we  could  do.  Signor  Malipieri  will  come  to  see 
us,  as  if  he  and  I  were  really  engaged." 

"  Yes,"  assented  the  Princess.  "  You  cannot  go  on 
calling  him  Signor  Malipieri  when  we  are  together  in 
the  family,  my  dear.  What  is  your  Christian  name  ?  " 
she  asked,  turning  to  him. 

"Marino." 

"  I  did  not  know,"  Sabina  said,  with  truth,  and  look 
ing  at  him,  as  if  she  had  found  something  new  to  like 
in  him.  "  Is  he  to  call  me  Sabina,  mother  ?  " 

"  Naturally.     Well,  my  dear  Marino  —  " 

Malipieri  started  visibly.     The  Princess  explained. 

"I  shall  call  you  so,  too.  It  looks  better  before 
people,  you  know.  You  must  leave  a  card  for  the 
ambassador,  at  the  porter's,  when  you  go  downstairs. 
He  is  going  to  ask  you  to  dinner,  with  a  lot  of  our  rela 
tions,  to  announce  the  engagement.  I  have  arranged 
it  all  beautifully  —  he  is  so  kind !  " 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

was  very  much  relieved  when  his  master  came 
home,  looking  much  calmer  than  when  he  had  gone  out 
and  evidently  having  all  his  senses  about  him.  Mali- 
pieri  sent  to  ask  at  what  time  the  mails  left  Rome  for 
Florence,  and  he  sat  down  to  his  table  without  remem 
bering  that  he  had  eaten  nothing  that  day. 

It  was  not  easy  to  write  out  in  a  concise  form  the 
story  of  all  that  has  here  been  told  in  detail.  Besides, 
he  had  not  the  habit  of  writing  to  the  Signora  Malipieri, 
except  such  brief  acknowledgments  of  her  regular  letters 
to  him  as  were  necessary  and  kind.  For  years  she  had 
been  to  him  little  more  than  a  recollection  of  his  youth, 
a  figure  that  had  crossed  his  life  like  a  shadow  in  a 
dream,  taking  with  it  a  promise  which  he  had  never 
found  it  hard  to  keep.  He  remembered  her  as  she  had 
been  then,  and  it  had  not  even  occurred  to  him  to  con 
sider  how  she  looked  now.  She  sometimes  sent  him 
photographs  of  the  pretty  little  girl,  and  Malipieri  kept 
them,  and  occasionally  looked  at  them,  because  they 
reminded  him  of  his  friend,  of  whom  he  had  no  portrait. 

He   found   it  very  hard   to   tell   this   half-mythical • 
woman   and   wholly   mythical   wife   of    all    that    had/ 
happened,  while  scrupulously  avoiding  the  main  fact, 
which  was  that  he  and  Sabina  loved  each  other.     To 

377 


378  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

have  told  that,  too,  would  have  seemed  like  a  reproach, 
or  still  worse,  like  a  request  to  be  set  at  liberty. 

He  wrote  carefully,  reading  over  his  sentences,  now 
and  then  correcting  one,  and  even  entertaining  a  vague 
idea  of  copying  the  whole  when  he  had  finished  it.  The 
important  point  was  that  she  should  fully  understand 
the  necessity  of  announcing  his  engagement  to  marry 
Donna  Sabina  Conti,  together  with  his  firm  intention 
of  breaking  it  off  as  soon  as  the  story  should  be  so  far 
forgotten  as  to  make  it  safe  to  do  so,  having  due  regard 
for  Donna  Sabina's  reputation  and  good  name. 

He  laid  so  much  stress  on  these  points,  and  expressed 
so  strongly  his  repentance  for  having  led  the  girl  into 
a  dangerous  scrape,  that  many  a  woman  would  have 
guessed  at  something  more.  But  of  this  he  was  quite 
unaware  when  he  read  the  letter  over,  believing  that  he 
could  judge  it  without  prejudice,  as  if  it  had  been 
written  by  some  one  else.  The  explanation  was 
thorough  and  logical,  but  there  was  a  little  too  much 
protest  in  the  expressions  of  regret.  Besides,  there 
were  several  references  to  Sabina's  unhappy  position  as 
the  daughter  of  an  abominably  worldly  and  heartless 
woman,  who  would  lock  her  up  in  a  convent  for  life 
rather  than  have  the  least  trouble  about  her.  He  could 
not  help  showing  his  anxious  interest  in  her  future, 
much  more  clearly  than  he  supposed. 

The  consequence  was  that  when  the  Signora  Malipieri 
read  the  letter  on  the  following  morning,  she  guessed 
the  truth,  as  almost  any  woman  would,  without  being 
positively  sure  of  it ;  and  she  was  absent-minded  with 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  379 

her  pupils  all  that  day,  and  looked  at  her  watch  un 
easily,  and  was  very  glad  when  she  was  able  to  go  home 
at  last  and  think  matters  over. 

It  was  not  easy  to  decide  what  to  do.  She  could  not 
write  to  Malipieri  and  ask  him  directly  if  he  was  in  love 
with  Sabina  Conti  and  wished  to  marry  her.  She 
answered  him  at  once,  however,  telling  him  that  she 
fully  understood  his  position,  and  thanking  him  for 
having  written  to  her  before  she  could  have  heard  the 
story  from  any  other  source. 

He  showed  the  letter  to  Sabina,  and  it  pleased  her 
by  its  frank  simplicity,  and  perfect  readiness  to  accept 
Malipieri's  statement  without  question,  and  without 
the  smallest  resentment.  Somehow  the  girl  had  felt 
that  this  shadowy  woman,  who  stood  between  her  and 
Malipieri,  would  make  some  claim  upon  him,  and 
assert  herself  in  some  disagreeable  way,  or  criticise  his 
action.  It  was  hateful  to  think  she  really  had  a  right 
to  call  herself  his  wife,  and  was  therefore  legally  privi 
leged  to  telMiim  unpleasant  truths.  Sabina  always 
connected  that  with  matrimony,  remembering  how  her 
father  and  mother  used  to  quarrel  when  he  was  alive, 
and  how  her  brother  and  sister-in-law  continued  the 
tradition.  If  the  Volterra  couple  were  always  peace 
ful,  that  was  because  the  Baroness  was  in  mortal  awe 
of  her  fat  husband,  a  state  of  life  to  which  Sabina  did 
not  wish  to  be' called.  It  was  true  that  Malipieri's  posi 
tion  with  regard  to  his  so-called  wife  had  nothing  to  do 
with  a  real  marriage,  but  Sabina  had  felt  the  disapprov 
ing  presence  of  the  woman  she  had  never  seen,  and 


380  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

whom  she  imagined  to  be  perpetually  shaking  a  warn 
ing  finger  at  Malipieri  and  reminding  him  sourly  that 
he  could  not  call  his  soul  his  own.  The  letter  had 
destroyed  the  impression. 

Meanwhile  Malipieri  was  appalled  by  the  publicity 
of  a  betrothal  which  was  never  to  lead  to  marriage. 
The  Princess  took  care  that  as  much  light  as  possible 
should  be  cast  upon  the  whole  affair,  and  to  the  Baroness 
Volterra's  stupefaction  and  delight,  told  every  one  that 
the  match  had  been  made  under  her  auspices,  and  that 
the  Conti  family  owed  her  eternal  gratitude  for  it  and 
for  her  care  of  Sabina  during  nearly  three  months.  The 
Princess  told  the  story  of  the  night  in  the  vaults  again 
and  again,  to  her  friends  and  relations,  extolling  every 
thing  that  Malipieri  had  done,  and  especially  his  roman 
tic  determination  to  show  the  girl  he  was  going  to 
marry  the  treasures  which  should  have  belonged  to  her, 
before  any  one  else  should  see  them. 

The  Princess  told  Volterra,  laughingly  and  quite 
frankly,  that  her  lawyer  would  do  everything  possible 
to  get  for  her  a  share  in  the  value  of  the  statues  discov 
ered,  and  Volterra,  following  her  clever  cue,  laughed 
with  her,  and  said  it  should  be  a  friendly  suit,  and  that 
the  lawyers  should  decide  among  themselves  how  it 
should  be  settled,  without  going  into  court.  Volterra 
was  probably  the  only  man  in  Rome  who  entertained  a 
profound  respect  for  the  Princess's  intelligence  ;  yet  he 
was  reckoned  a  good  judge  in  such  matters.  He  him 
self  was  far  too  wise  to  waste  regrets  upon  the  failure 
of  his  tactics,  and  the  stake  had  not  been  large,  after 


THE   HEAET   OF    ROME  381 

all,  compared  with  his  great  fortune.  Magnanimity 
was  a  form  of  commodity  which  could  be  exchanged 
for  popularity,  and  popularity  was  ready  money.  A 
thousand  votes  were  as  good  as  two  million  francs,  any 
day,  when  one  was  not  a  senator  for  life,  and  wished  to 
be  re-elected  ;  and  a  reputation  for  spotless  integrity 
would  cover  a  multitude  of  financial  sins.  Since  it  had 
been  impossible  to  keep  what  did  not  belong  to  him, 
the  next  best  thing  was  to  restore  it  to  the  accompani 
ment  of  a  brass  band  and  a  chorus  of  public  approval. 
The  Princess,  clever  woman,  knew  exactly  how  he  felt 
and  helped  him  to  do  the  inevitable  in  a  showy  way ;  and 
it  all  helped  her  to  carry  her  daughter  and  herself  out 
of  a  difficult  position  in  a  blaze  of  triumph. 

"  My  dear,"  she  said  to  the  girl,  "  you  may  do  any 
thing  you  please,  if  you  will  only  do  it  in  public.  Lock 
your  door  to  say  your  prayers,  and  the  world  will  shriek 
out  that  you  have  a  scandal  to  conceal." 

It  dawned  upon  Sabina  that  her  cynical,  careless, 
spendthrift,  scatter-brained  mother  had  perhaps  after 
all  a  share  of  the  cunning  and  the  force  which  rule  the 
world  to-day,  and  which  were  so  thoroughly  combined 
in  Volterra's  character.  That  would  account  for  the 
way  in  which  she  sailed  through  storms  that  would 
have  wrecked  the  Baroness  and  drowned  poor  little 
Sabina  herself. 

Meanwhile  a  hundred  workmen  had  dug  down  to 
the  vault  under  the  courtyard  of  the  Palazzo  Conti, 
the  statues  had  been  lifted  out  intact,  with  cranes,  and 
had  been  set  upon  temporary  pedestals,  under  a  spa- 


382  THE   HEABT   OF   HOME 

cious  wooden  shed;  and  the  world,  the  flesh  and  the 
devil,  including  royalty,  went  to  see  them  and  talked 
of  nothing  else.  All  Europe  heard  the  story  of  Mali- 
pieri's  discovery,  and  of  his  adventure  with  his  be 
trothed  wife,  and  praised  him  and  called  him  and  her 
an  "ideal  couple." 

Sabina's  brother  came  up  from  the  country  to  be 
present  at  the  Embassy  dinner,  and  of  course  stopped 
at  the  Grand  Hotel,  and  made  up  his  mind  to  have  an 
automobile  at  once.  His  wife  stayed  in  the  country 
with  the  delicate  little  child,  but  sent  Sabina  a  note  of 
congratulation. 

Clementina,  writing  from  her  convent,  said  she  hoped 
that  Sabina  might  redeem  the  follies  of  her  youth  in  a 
respectable  married  life,  but  the  hope  was  not  expressed 
with  much  conviction.  Sabina  need  not  disturb  the 
peace  of  a  religious  house  by  coming  to  see  her. 

The  Princess  boldly  gave  out  that  the  marriage  would 
take  place  in  the  autumn,  and  confided  to  two  or  three 
gossips  that  she  really  meant  to  have  a  quiet  wedding 
in  the  summer,  because  it  would  be  so  much  more  eco 
nomical,  and  the  young  couple  did  not  like  the  idea  of 
waiting  so  long.  As  for  a  dowry,  everybody  knew 
that  Sassi,  dear,  kind-hearted  old  man,  had  left  Sabina 
what  he  had ;  and  there  were  the  statues. 

Prince  Conti  came  to  the  Embassy  as  soon  as  he 
arrived,  and  met  Malipieri,  to  whom  he  was  overpower- 
ingly  cordial  in  his  weak  way.  On  the  whole,  at  their 
first  interview,  he  judged  that  it  would  not  be  easy  to 
borrow  money  of  him,  and  went  away  disappointed. 


THE   HEART   OF   HOME  383 

Society  asked  where  Malipieri's  father  was,  and 
learned  that  he  was  nearly  seventy  and  was  paralysed, 
and  never  left  his  house  in  Venice,  but  that  he  highly 
approved  of  his  son's  marriage  and  wished  to  see  his 
future  daughter-in-law  as  soon  as  possible.  The  Prin 
cess  said  that  Sabina  and  Malipieri  would  live  with 
him,  but  would  come  to  Rome  for  the  winter. 

Prince  Rubomirsky,  Sabina's  uncle,  sent  her  a  very 
handsome  diamond  necklace,  which  the  Princess  showed 
to  all  her  friends,  and  some  of  them  began  to  send  wed 
ding  presents  likewise,  because  they  had  been  privately 
informed  that  the  marriage  was  to  take  place  very  soon. 

Sabina  lived  joyously  in  the  moment,  apparently  con 
vinced  that  fate  would  bring  everything  right,  and 
doing  her  best  to  drive  away  the  melancholy  that  had 
settled  upon  Malipieri.  Something  would  happen,  she 
said.  It  was  impossible  that  heaven  could  be  so  cruel 
as  to  part  them  and  ruin  both  their  lives  for  the  sake 
of  a  promise  given  to  a  man  dead  long  ago.  Malipieri 
wished  that  he  could  believe  it. 

He  grew  almost  desperate  as  time  went  on  and  he 
saw  how  the  Princess  was  doing  everything  to  make 
the  engagement  irrevocable.  He  grew  thin,  and  ner 
vous,  and  his  eyes  were  restless.  The  deep  tan  of  the 
African  sun  was  disappearing,  too,  and  sometimes  he 
looked  almost  ill.  People  said  he  was  too  much  in 
love,  and  laughed.  Little  by  little  Sabina  understood 
that  she  could  not  persuade  him  to  trust  to  the  future, 
and  she  grew  anxious  about  him.  He  wondered  how 
she  could  still  deceive  herself  as  to  the  inevitable  end. 


384  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"  We  can  go  on  being  engaged  as  long  as  we  please," 
she  said  hopefully.  "  There  are  plenty  of  possible 
excuses." 

"  You  and  I  are  not  good  at  lying,"  he  answered, 
with  a  weary  smile.  "We  told  each  other  so,  that 
night." 

"  But  it  is  perfectly  true  that  I  am  almost  too  young 
to  be  married,"  said  she  ;  "  and  really,  you  know,  it 
might  be  more  sensible  to  wait  till  I  am  nineteen." 

"  We  should  not  think  it  sensible  to  wait  a  week,  if 
there  were  no  hindrance.  You  know  that." 

"  Of  course !  But  when  there  is  a  hindrance,  as  you 
call  it,  it  is  very  sensible  indeed  to  wait,"  retorted 
Sabina,  with  a  truly  feminine  sense  of  the  value  of 
logic.  "  I  shall  think  so,  and  I  shall  say  so,  if  I  must. 
Then  you  will  have  to  wait,  too,  and  what  will  it 
matter,  so  long  as  we  can  see  each  other  every  day  ? 
Have  people  never  waited  a  year  to  be  married  ?  " 

"  You  know  that  we  may  wait  all  our  lives." 

"  No.  I  will  not  do  that,"  Sabina  said  with  sudden 
energy.  "If  nothing  happens,  I  will  make  something 
happen.  You  know  what  I  told  you.  Have  you  for 
gotten  ?  And  I  am  sure  your  father  will  understand." 

"I  doubt  it,"  Malipieri  answered,  smiling  in  spite 
of  himself. 

To  tell  the  truth,  since  her  mother  had  cleared  away 
so  many  dangers,  and  showed  no  intention  of  shutting 
her  up  in  a  convent,  Sabina  had  begun  to  see  that  it 
would  be  quite  another  matter  to  run  away  and  follow 
Malipieri  to  the  ideal  desert  island,  especially  after 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  385 

they  had  been  openly  engaged  to  be  married  and  the 
engagement  had  been  broken.  The  world  would  have 
to  know  the  story  of  his  marriage  then,  and  it  would 
call  him  dishonourable  for  having  allowed  himself  to 
be  engaged  to  her  when  he  was  not  free.  It  would 
say  that  she  had  found  out  the  truth,  and  that  he  was 
a  villain,  or  something  unpleasant  of  that  sort.  But 
she  meant  to  keep  up  the  illusion  bravely,  as  long  as 
there  was  any  life  in  it  at  all,  and  then  "  something 
must  happen." 

"  It  seems  so  strange  that  I  should  be  braver  than 
you,"  she  said. 

He  did  not  wonder  at  that  as  much  as  she  did.  Her 
reputation  was  saved  now,  but  his  honour  was  in  the 
balance,  and  at  the  mercy  of  a  worldly  and  unscrupu 
lous  woman.  When  he  broke  the  engagement,  the 
Princess  would  tell  the  story  of  his  marriage  and 
publish  it  on  the  housetops.  He  told  Sabina  so. 

"  You  are  safe,"  he  added  ;  "  but  when  I  lose  you, 
I  shall  lose  my  place  among  honourable  men." 

"  Then  I  shall  tell  the  truth,  and  the  whole  truth,  to 
every  one  I  know,"  Sabina  answered,  in  the  full  con 
viction  that  truth,  like  faith,  could  perform  miracles, 
and  that  a  grain  of  it  could  remove  mountains  of  evil. 
"  I  shall  tell  the  whole  world  !  "  she  cried.  "  I  do  not 
care  what  my  mother  says." 

He  was  silent,  for  it  was  better,  after  all,  that  she 
should  believe  in  her  happiness  as  long  as  she  could. 
She  said  nothing  more  for  some  time  and  they  sat  quite 
still,  thinking  widely  opposite  thoughts.  At  last  she 

2c 


386  THE   HEART   OP   ROME 

laid  her  hand  on  his ;  the  loving  little  way  had  become 
familiar  to  her  since  it  had  come  instinctively  the  first 
time. 

"  Marino  !  " 

"  Yes  ?  " 

"  You  know  that  I  love  you  ?  " 

"  Indeed  I  know  it." 

"And  you  love  me?  Just  as  much?  In  the  same 
way?" 

"  Perhaps  more.     Who  knows?  " 

"  No,  that  is  impossible,"  she  answered.  "  Now  lis 
ten  to  me.  It  is  out  of  the  question  that  we  should 
ever  be  parted,  loving  each  other  as  we  do,  is  it 
not?" 

The  door  opened  and  a  servant  entered,  with  a 
card. 

"  The  lady  told  me  to  inform  your  Excellency  that 
she  is  a  connection  of  Signor  Malipieri,"  said  the  man. 
"  She  hopes  that  she  may  be  received,  as  she  is  in  Rome 
for  only  a  few  hours." 

Sabina  looked  at  the  card  and  handed  it  silently  to 
Malipieri,  and  her  fingers  trembled. 

"Angelica  Malipieri." 

That  was  the  name  and  there  was  the  address  in 
Florence,  in  Via  del  Mandorlo. 

"  Ask  the  lady  to  come  here,"  said  Sabina,  quietly ; 
but  her  face  was  suddenly  very  white. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

SABINA  and  Malipieri  sat  in  silence  during  the 
minutes  that  followed.  From  time  to  time,  they 
looked  at  each  other.  His  self-possession  and  cour 
age  had  returned,  now  that  something  decisive  was 
to  take  place,  but  Sabina's  heart  was  almost  standing 
still.  She  felt  that  the  woman  had  come  to  make  a 
scene,  to  threaten  a  scandal  and  utterly  to  destroy  the 
illusion  of  happiness.  If  not,  and  if  she  had  merely 
had  something  of  importance  to  communicate,  \yhy 
had  she  not  gone  to  Malipieri  first,  or  written  to  ask 
for  this  interview  with  Sabina?  She  had  come  sud 
denly,  in  order  to  take  advantage  of  the  surprise  her 
appearance  must  cause.  For  once,  Sabina  wished  that 
her  mother  were  with  her,  her  high  and  mighty, 
insolent,  terrible  mother,  who  was  afraid  of  nobody 
in  the  world. 

The  door  opened,  and  the  footman  admitted  a  quiet 
little  woman,  about  thirty  years  old,  already  inclined 
to  be  stout.  She  was  very  simply  but  very  well 
dressed,  she  had  beautiful  brown  hair,  and  when  she 
came  forward  Sabina  looked  into  a  pair  of  luminous 
and  trustful  hazel  eyes. 

"  Donna  Sabina  Conti  ?  "  asked  the  Signora  Malipieri 

in  a  gentle  voice. 

387 


388  THE   HEART   OF   ROME 

"  Yes,"  Sabina  answered. 

She  and  Malipieri  had  both  risen.  The  Signora  made 
a  timid  movement  with  her  hand,  as  if  she  expected 
that  Sabina  would  offer  hers,  which  Sabina  did,  rather 
late,  when  she  saw  that  it  was  expected.  The  lady 
glanced  at  Malipieri  and  then  at  Sabina  with  a  look  of 
enquiry,  as  he  held  out  his  hand  to  her  and  she  took  it. 
He  saw  that  she  did  not  recognize  him. 

"I  am  Marino  Malipieri,"  he  said. 

"  You  ?  "  she  cried  in  surprise. 

Then  a  faint  flush  rose  in  her  smooth  cheeks,  and 
Sabina,  who  was  watching  her,  saw  that  her  lip  trembled 
a  little,  and  that  tears  rose  in  her  eyes. 

"  Forgive  me,"  she  said,  in  an  unsteady  voice.  "  I 
should  have  known  you,  after  all  you  have  done  for 
me." 

"  I  think  it  is  nearly  thirteen  years  since  we  met," 
Malipieri  answered.  "I  had  no  beard  then." 

She  looked  at  him  long,  evidently  in  strong  emotion, 
but  the  tears  did  not  overflow,  and  the  clear  light  came 
back  gradually  in  her  gaze.  Then  the  three  sat  down. 

"  I  thought  I  had  better  come,"  she  said.  "  It  seemed 
easier  than  to  write." 

"  Yes,"  Sabina  answered,  not  knowing  what  to  say. 

"  You  see,"  said  the  Signora,  "  I  could  not  easily  write 
to  you  frankly,  as  I  had  never  seen  you,  and  I  did  not 
like  to  write  to  Signor  Malipieri  about  what  I  wanted 
to  know." 

"Yes,"  said  Sabina,  once  more,  but  this  time  she 
looked  at  Malipieri. 


THE   HEART   OF   EOME  389 

"  What  is  it  that  you  wish  to  know,  Signora  ? "  he 
asked  kindly.  "  Whether  it  is  all  exactly  as  my  letter 
told  you  ?  Is  that  it  ?  " 

She  turned  to  him  with  a  look  of  reproach. 

"  Does  a  woman  doubt  a  man  who  has  done  what  you 
have  done  for  me?"  she  asked.  "I  wanted  to  know 
something  more  —  a  little  more  than  what  you  wrote  to 
me.  It  would  make  a  difference,  perhaps." 

"  To  you,  Signora  ?  "  asked  Sabina  quickly. 

"  No.  To  you.  Perhaps  it  would  make  a  great  dif 
ference  in  the  way  I  should  act."  She  paused  an 
instant.  "  It  is  rather  hard  to  ask,  I  know,"  she  added 
shyly. 

She  seemed  to  be  a  timid  little  woman. 

"  Please  tell  us  what  it  is  that  you  wish  to  know, 
Signora,"  said  Malipieri,  in  the  same  kind  tone,  trying 
to  encourage  her. 

"  I  should  like  to  ask  —  I  hardly  know  just  how  to 
•  say  it  —  if  you  would  tell  me  whether  you  are  fond  of 
each  other  —  " 

"  What  difference  can  that  make  to  you,  Signora  ?  " 
Malipieri  asked  with  sudden  hardness.  "  You  know 
that  I  shall  not  break  my  word." 

She  was  hurt  by  the  tone,  and  looked  down  meekly, 
as  if  she  had  deserved  the  words. 

"  We  love  each  other  with  all  our  hearts,"  said  Sabina, 
before  either  of  the  others  could  say  more.  "  Nothing 
shall  ever  part  us,  in  this  world  or  the  next." 

There  was  a  ring  of  clear  defiance  to  fate  in  the  girl's 
voice,  and  Signora  Malipieri  turned  to  her  quickly,  with 


390  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

a  look  of  sympathy.  She  knew  the  cry  that  comes 
from  the  heart. 

"  But  you  think  that  you  can  never  be  married,"  she 
said,  almost  to  herself. 

"  How  can  we  ?  You  know  that  we  cannot ! "  It  was 
Malipieri  who  answered. 

Then  the  timid  little  woman  raised  her  head  and 
looked  him  full  in  the  face,  and  spoke  without  any 
more  hesitation. 

"Do  you  think  that  I  have  never  thought  of  this 
possibility,  during  all  these  years ? "  she  asked.  "Do 
you  really  believe  that  I  would  let  you  suffer  for  me, 
let  your  life  be  broken,  let  you  give  up  the  best  thing 
that  any  life  holds,  after  you  have  done  for  me  what 
perhaps  no  man  ever  did  for  a  woman  before  ?  " 

"I  know  you  are  grateful,"  Malipieri  answered  very 
gently.  "  Do  not  speak  of  what  I  have  done.  It  has 
not  been  at  any  sacrifice,  till  now." 

But  Sabina  leaned  forward  and  grasped  the  Signora 
Malipieri's  hands.  Her  own  were  trembling. 

"  You  have  come  to  help  us  !  "  she  cried. 

"  It  is  so  easy,  now  that  I  know  that  you  love  each 
other." 

"How?"  asked  Sabina,  breathless.  "By  a  di 
vorce  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I  shall  never  ask  for  that,"  Malipieri  said,  shaking 
his  head. 

"  You  are  the  best  and  truest  gentleman  that  ever 
protected  a  woman  in  trouble,  Signor  Malipieri,"  said 


THE   HEART    OF   HOME  391 

the  little  woman  quietly.  "  I  know  that  you  will 
never  divorce  me.  I  know  you  would  not  even  think 
of  it." 

"  Well,  but  then  —  "  Malipieri  stopped  and  looked 
at  her. 

"  I  shall  get  a  divorce  from  you,"  she  said,  and  then 
she  looked  happily  from  one  to  the  other. 

Malipieri  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hand.  He  had 
not  even  thought  of  such  a  solution,  and  the  thought 
came  upon  him  in  his  despair  like  a  flood  of  dazzling 
light.  Sabina  was  on  her  knees,  and  had  thrown  her 
arms  wildly  round  the  Signora  Malipieri's  neck,  and 
was  kissing  her  again  and  again. 

"  But  it  is  nothing,"  protested  the  Signora,  beaming 
with  delight.  "  It  is  so  simple,  so  easy,  and  I  know 
exactly  what  to  do." 

"You  ?  "  cried  Sabina  between  laughing  and  crying. 

"Yes.  I  once  gave  lessons  in  the  house  of  a  famous 
lawyer,  and  sometimes  I  was  asked  to  stay  to  luncheon, 
and  I  heard  a  great  case  discussed,  and  I  asked  ques 
tions,  until  I  thoroughly  understood  it  all.  You  see,  it 
was  what  I  always  meant  to  do.  There  is  a  little  fic 
tion  about  the  way  it  is  managed,  but  it  is  perfectly 
legal.  Though  Italians  may  naturalize  themselves  in  a 
foreign  country,  they  can  regain  their  own  nationality 
by  a  simple  declaration.  Now,  Signor  Malipieri  and  I 
must  be  naturalized  in  Switzerland.  I  know  a  place 
where  it  can  be  done  easily.  Then  we  can  be  divorced 
by  mutual  consent  at  once.  We  come  back  to  Italy, 
declare  our  nationality  wherever  we  please,  and  we  are 


392  THE   HEART   OF   KOME 

free  to  be  married  to  any  one  else,  under  Italian  law. 
The  fiction  is  only  that  by  paying  some  money,  it  can 
all  be  done  in  three  months,  instead  of  in  three  years." 

Malipieri  had  listened  attentively. 

"  Are  you  positively  sure  of  that  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  have  the  authority  of  one  of  the  first  lawyers  in 
Italy." 

"  But  the  Church  ?  "  asked  Sabina  anxiously.  "  I 
should  not  think  it  a  marriage  at  all,  if  I  were  not 
married  in  church." 

"  I  have  asked  a  good  priest  about  that,"  answered 
the  Signora.  "I  go  to  confession  to  him,  and  he  is 
a  good  man,  and  wise  too.  He  told  me  that  the  Church 
could  make  no  objection  at  all,  since  there  has  really 
been  no  marriage  at  all,  and  since  Signor  Malipieri  will 
present  himself  after  being  properly  and  legally  married 
to  you  at  the  municipality.  He  told  me,  on  the  con 
trary,  that  it  is  my  duty  to  do  everything  in  my  power 
to  help  you." 

"  God  bless  you  !  "  Sabina  cried.  "  You  are  the  best 
woman  in  the  world  !  " 

Malipieri  took  the  Signora's  hand  and  pressed  it  to 
his  lips  fervently,  for  he  could  not  find  any  words. 

44 1  shall  only  ask  one  thing,"  she  said,  speaking 
timidly  again. 

"  Ask  all  I  have,"  he  answered,  her  hand  still  in  his. 

"  But  you  may  not  like  it.  I  should  like  to  keep  the 
name,  if  you  do  not  mind  very  much,  on  account  of  my 
little  girl.  She  need  never  know.  I  can  leave  her  with 
a  friend  while  we  are  in  Switzerland." 


THE   HEART   OF    ROME  393 

"  It  is  yours,"  he  said.  "  Few  of  my  own  people  have 
borne  it  as  worthily  as  you  have,  since  I  gave  it  to  you." 
*  *  -x-  *  -x-  * 

Here,  therefore,  ends  the  story  of  Sabina  Conti  and 
Marino  Malipieri,  whose  marriage  took  place  quietly 
during  the  autumn,  as  the  Princess  had  confidently  said 
that  it  should.  It  is  a  tale  without  a  "  purpose  "  and 
without  any  particular  "  moral,"  in  the  present  appall 
ing  acceptation  of  those  simple  words.  If  it  has  in 
terested  or 'pleased  those  who  have  read  it,  the  writer 
is  glad  ;  if  it  has  not,  he  can  find  some  consolation 
in  having  made  two  young  people  unutterably  blissful 
in  his  own  imagination,  whereas  he  manifestly  had  it  in 
his  power  to  bring  them  to  awful  grief  ;  and  when  one 
cannot  make  living  men  and  women  happy  in  real  life, 
it  is  a  harmless  satisfaction  to  do  it  in  a  novel.  If  this 
one  shows  anything  worth  learning  about  the  world,  it 
is  that  a  gifted  man  of  strong  character  and  honourable 
life  may  do  a  foolish  and  generous  thing  whereby  he 
may  become  in  a  few  days  the  helpless  toy  of  fate.  He 
who  has  never  repented  of  a  good  impulse  which  has 
brought  great  trouble  to  other  people,  must  be  indeed 
a  selfish  soul. 

As  for  the  strange  circumstances  I  have  described,  I 
do  not  think  any  of  them  impossible,  and  many  of  them 
are  founded  upon  well-known  facts.  I  have  myself 
seen,  within  not  many  years,  a  construction  like  the 
dry  well  in  the  Palazzo  Conti,  which  was  discovered  in 
the  foundations  of  a  Roman  palace,  and  had  been  used 
as  an  oubliette.  There  were  skeletons  in  it  and  frag- 


394  THE   HEART   OF   HOME 

ments  of  weapons  of  the  sixteenth  century  and  even 
of  the  seventeenth.  There  was  also  a  communication 
between  the  cellars  of  the  palace  and  the  Tiber. 

I  read  George  Sand's  fantastic  novel  Consuelo  many 
years  ago,  and  I  am  aware  that  she  introduced  a  well, 
in  an  ancient  castle,  in  which  the  water  could  be  made 
to  rise  and  fall  at  will,  in  order  to  establish  or  interrupt 
communication  with  a  secret  chamber.  I  do  not  know 
whether  she  imagined  the  construction  or  had  seen 
a  similar  one,  for  such  wells  are  said  to  be  found  in 
more  than  one  old  fortress  in  Europe.  The  "  lost  water  " 
really  exists  at  many  points  under  Rome ;  its  rising  and 
falling  are  sometimes  unaccountable;  and  I  know  at 
least  one  old  palace  in  which  it  has  been  used  and  found 
pure,  within  the  memory  of  man.  So  far,  the  explana 
tions  suggested  by  engineers  have  neither  satisfied  those 
who  have  propounded  them,  nor  those  who  have  had 
practical  experience  of  the  "lost  water."  The  subject 
is  extremely  interesting  but  is  one  of  very  great  difficulty, 
as  it  is  generally  quite  impossible  to  make  explorations 
in  the  places  where  the  water  is  near  the  surface.  The 
older  part  of  modern  Rome  was  built  haphazard,  and 
often  upon  the  enormous  substructures  of  ancient  build 
ings,  of  which  the  positions  can  be  conjectured  only, 
and  of  which  the  plans  and  dimensions  are  very  vaguely 
guessed  by  archseologists.  All  that  can  be  said  with 
approximate  certainty  of  the  "  lost  water  "  is  that  it 
must  run  through  long-forgotten  conduits,  that  it  rises 
here  and  there  in  wells,  and  that  it  is  mostly  uncon- 
taminated  by  the  river. 


THE   HEART   OF   ROME  395 

Those  familiar  with  the  Vatican  museum  will  have  at 
once  recognized  the  colossal  statue  of  gilt  bronze  which 
now  stands  in  the  circular  hall  known  as  the  "  Rotonda." 
It  was  accidentally  found,  when  I  was  a  boy,  in  the 
courtyard  of  the  Palazzo  Righetti  in  the  Campo  dei 
Fiori,  carefully  and  securely  concealed  by  a  well-built 
vault,  evidently  constructed  for  the  purpose,  in  the 
foundations  of  the  Theatre  of  Pompey.  I  went  to  see 
it,  when  only  a  portion  of  the  vault  had  been  removed, 
and  I  shall  never  forget  the  vivid  impression  it  made 
upon  me.  So  far  as  I  know,  there  has  not  been  any 
explanation  of  its  having  been  hidden  there,  but  among 
the  lower  classes  in  Rome  there  are  traditions  of  great 
treasure  supposed  to  be  buried  in  other  parts  of  the  city. 
I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  making  the  discovery  over 
again  at  a  point  some  distance  from  the  Palazzo  Righetti, 
and  in  the  present  time.  The  statue  was  really  found  in 
1864,  and  the  gem  in  the  ring  was  stolen.  The  marble 
Venus  which  Malipieri  saw  with  it  is  imaginary,  but  I 
was  also  taken  to  see  the  beautiful  statue  of  Augustus, 
now  in  the  Braccio  Nuovo  of  the  Vatican,  on  the  spot 
where  it  came  to  light  in  the  Villa  of  Livia,  in  1863. 

The  great  mediaeval  family  of  Conti  became  extinct 
long  ago.  The  palace  to  which  I  have  given  their 
name  would  stand  on  the  site  of  one  now  the  property 
of  the  Vatican,  but  would  be  of  a  somewhat  different 
construction. 

Finally,  I  wish  to  protest  that  there  are  no  so-called 
"  portraits "  in  this  story  of  the  heart  of  old  Rome. 
Many  Romans  were  ruined  by  the  financial  crisis  of  1888 


396  THE   HEART    OF    ROME 

and  its  consequences,  either  at  the  time  or  later.  The 
family  to  which  Sabina  belonged  is  wholly  imaginary, 
and  its  fall  was  due  to  other  causes.  I  trust  that  no 
ingenious  reader  will  try  to  trace  a  parallel  where  none 
exists.  I  would  not  even  have  a  certain  young  and 
famous  architect  and  engineer,  for  whom  I  entertain  the 
highest  ad  miration  and  esteem,  recognize  a  "  portrait"  of 
himself  in  Marino  Malipieri,  if  these  pages  should  ever 
come  to  his  notice,  and  I  have  purposely  made  my  imagi 
nary  hero  as  unlike  him  as  possible,  in  appearance,  man 
ner  and  speech. 

Those  who  have  noticed  the  increasing  tendency  of 
modern  readers  to  bring  accusations  of  plagiarism 
against  novels  that  deal  partly  with  facts  will  under 
stand  why  I  have  said  this  much  about  my  own  work. 
To  others,  the  few  details  I  have  given  may  be  of  some 
interest. 


CECILIA:  A  Story  of  Modern  Rome 

By  F.  MARION  CRAWFORD 

Author  of  " Saradnesca"  " Marietta"  etc.,  etc. 

Cloth.        i2mo.       $1.50 

"  The  love  story,  which  is  the  dominating  interest  throughout,  is  so  strange 
and  novel  a  one  that  many  readers  will,  we  think,  compare  it  with  '  Mr.  Isaacs,' 
the  author's  first  and  most  popular  book.  .  .  .  Mr.  Crawford  will,  we  think,  be 
held  to  have  scored  a  new  and  distinct  success  in  this  story."  —  The  Philadelphia 
North  American. 

"In  'Cecilia'  Mr.  Crawford  takes  us  once  more  into  the  Roman  society 
which  he  knows  so  well,  and  which  he  has  again  and  again  deftly  delineated. 
Here  once  more  he  uses  in  fresh  and  effective  fashion  facts  or  fictions  from  the 
debatable  borderland  between  the  provinces  of  ascertained  science  and  occult 
lore.  .  .  .  '  Cecilia '  is  in  every  way  worthy  of  its  author's  reputation."  —  The 
Athen&um. 


MARIETTA :  A  Maid  of  Venice 

By  F.  MARION  CRAWFORD 

Author  of  "  Saracinesca"  etc. 
Cloth.  i2mo.  $1.50 

"  There  are  two  important  departments  of  the  novelist's  art  in  which  Marion 
Crawford  is  entirely  at  home.  He  can  tell  a  love  story  better  than  any  one 
now  living  save  the  unapproachable  George  Meredith.  And  he  can  describe 
the  artistic  temperament  and  the  artistic  environment  with  a  security  born  of 
infallible  instinct."—  The  New  York  Herald. 

"  This  is  not  the  first  time  that  Mr.  Crawford's  pen  has  drawn  the  conscious 
love  of  a  pure  girl  for  a  man  whose  own  heart  she  believed  to  be  untouched, 
yet,  in  the  love  of  Marietta  for  the  Dalmatian,  we  have  something  that,  while 
so  utterly  human,  is  so  delicately  revealed  that  the  reader  must  be  a  stoic  indeed 
who  does  not  take  a  delightful  interest  in  the  fate  of  that  love."  —  New  York 
Times. 


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WRITINGS  OF  F.   MARION  CRAWFORD 


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CORLEONE 

A  TALE  OF  SICILY 

9      The  last  of  the  famous  Saracinesca  Series 

**  It  is  by  far  the  most  stirring  and  dramatic  of  all  the  author's  Italian  stories. . . .  The 
plot  is  a  masterly  one,  bringing  at  almost  every  page  a  fresh  surprise,  keeping  the  reader 
in  suspense  to  the  very  end." —  The  Times,  New  York. 

MR.  ISAACS 

"It  is  lofty  and  uplifting.  It  is  strongly,  sweetly,  tenderly  written.  It  is  in  all 
respects  an  uncommon  novel."  —  The  Literary  World. 

DR.  CLAUDIUS 

"  The  characters  are  strongly  marked  without  any  suspicion  of  caricature,  and  the 
author's  ideas  on  social  and  political  subjects  are  often  brilliant  and  always  striking.  It 
is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  there  is  not  a  dull  page  in  the  book,  which  is  peculiarly 
adapted  for  the  recreation  of  the  student  or  thinker."  —  Living  Church. 

A  ROMAN  SINGER 

"A  powerful  story  of  art  and  love  in  Rome."  —  The  New  York  Observer. 

AN  AMERICAN  POLITICIAN 

"  One  of  the  characters  is  a  visiting  Englishman.  Possibly  Mr.  Crawford's  long  resi 
dence  abroad  has  made  him  select  such  a  hero  as  a  safeguard  against  slips,  which  does 
not  seem  to  have  been  needed.  His  insight  into  a  phase  of  politics  with  which  he  could 
hardly  be  expected  to  be  familiar  is  remarkable."  —  Buffalo  Express. 


TO  LEEWARD 

"  It  is  an  admirable  tale  of  Italian  life  told  in  a  spirited  way  and  far  better  than  most 
of  the  fiction  current." —  San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

ZOROASTER 

"  As  a  matter  of  literary  art  solely,  we  doubt  if  Mr.  Crawford  has  ever  before  given  us 
better  work  than  the  description  of  Belshazzar's  feast  with  which  the  story  begins,  or  tho 
death-scene  with  which  it  closes."  —  The  Christian  Union  (now  The  Outlook). 

A  TALE  OF  A  LONELY  PARISH 

"  It  is  a  pleasure  to  have  anything  so  perfect  of  its  kind  as  this  brief  and  vivid  story. 
It  is  doubly  a  success,  being  full  of  human  sympathy,  as  well  as  thoroughly  artistic." 

—  The  Critic. 

MARZIO'S  CRUCIFIX 

"  We  take  the  liberty  of  saying  that  this  work  belongs  to  the  highest  department  <A 
character-painting  in  words." —  The  Churchman. 

PAUL  PATOFF 

"  It  need  scarcely  be  said  that  the  story  is  skilfully  and  picturesquely  written,  portiay- 
ing  sharply  individual  characters  in  well-defined  surroundings." 

—  New  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 

PIETRO  GHISLERI 

"  The  strength  of  the  story  lies  not  only  in  the  artistic  and  highly  dramatic  working 
out  of  the  plot,  but  also  in  the  penetrating  analysis  and  understanding  of  the  impulsive 
and  passionate  Italian  character."  —  Public  Opinion. 

THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  KING 

"  One  of  the  most  artistic  and  exquisitely  finished  pieces  of  work  that  Crawford  has 
produced.  The  picturesque  setting,  Calabria  and  its  surroundings,  the  beautiful  Sorrento 
and  the  Gulf  of  Salerno,  with  the  bewitching  accessories  that  climate,  sea,  and  sky  afford, 
give  Mr.  Crawford  rich  opportunities  to  show  his  rare  descriptive  powers.  As  a  whole 
the  book  is  strong  and  beautiful  through  its  simplicity."  —  Public  Opinion. 

MARION  DARCHE 

"  We  are  disposed  to  rank  '  Marion  Darche '  as  the  best  of  Mr.  Crawford's  American 
stories."  —  The  Literary  World. 

CATHERINE  LAUDERDALE 

"  It  need  scarcely  be  said  that  the  story  is  skilfully  and  picturesquely  written,  portray 
ing  sharply  individual  characters  in  well-defined  surroundings." 

—  New  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 

THE  RALSTONS 

"  The  whole  group  of  character  studies  is  strong  and  vivid."—  The  Literary  World. 

LOVE  IN  IDLENESS 

"  The  story  is  told  in  the  author's  lightest  vein;  it  is  bright  and  entertaining." 

—  The  Literary  World. 

CASA  BRACCIO 

"  We  are  grateful  when  Mr.  Crawford  keeps  to  his  Italy.  The  poetry  and  enchant 
ment  of  the  land  are  all  his  own,  and  '  Casa  Braccio '  gives  promise  of  being  his  master 
piece.  .  .  .  He  has  the  life,  the  beauty,  the  heart,  and  the  soul  of  Italy  at  the  tips  of  his 
fingers."  —  Los  Angeles  Express. 

3 


TAQUISARA 

"  A  charming  story  this  is,  and  one  which  will  certainly  be  liked  by  all  admirers  of 
Mr.  Crawford's  work."  —  New  York  Herald. 

ADAM  JOHNSTONE'S   SON  and  A  ROSE  OF  YESTERDAY 

"  It  is  not  only  one  of  the  most  enjoyable  novels  that  Mr.  Crawford  has  ever  written, 
but  is  a  novel  that  will  make  people  think."  —  Boston  Beacon, 

"  Don't  miss  reading  Marion  Crawford's  new  novel,  '  A  Rose  of  Yesterday.'  It  is 
brief,  but  beautiful  and  strong.  It  is  as  charming  a  piece  of  pure  idealism  as  ever  came 
from  Mr.  Crawford's  pen."  —  Chicago  Tribune. 

SARACINESCA 

"  The  work  has  two  distinct  merits,  either  of  which  would  serve  to  make  it  great :  that 
of  telling  a  perfect  story  in  a  perfect  way,  and  of  giving  a  graphic  picture  of  Roman  soci 
ety.  .  .  .  The  story  is  exquisitely  told,  and  is  the  author's  highest  achievement,  as  yet, 
in  the  realm  of  fiction."  —  The  Boston  Traveler. 

SANT'  ILARIO 

A  SEQUEL  TO  SARACINESCA 

"A  singularly  powerful  and  beautiful  story.  ...  It  fulfils  every  requirement  of 
artistic  fiction.  It  brings  out  what  is  most  impressive  in  human  action,  without  owing 
any  of  its  effectiveness  to  sensationalism  or  artifice.  It  is  natural,  fluent  in  evolution, 
accordant  with  experience,  graphic  in  description,  penetrating  in  analysis,  and  absorbing 
in  interest."  —  The  New  York  Tribune. 

DON  ORSINO 

A  SEQUEL  TO  SARACINESCA  AND   SANT'  ILARIO 

"  Offers  exceptional  enjoyment  in  many  ways,  in  the  fascinating  absorption  of  good 
fiction,  in  the  interest  of  faithful  historic  accuracy,  and  in  charm  of  style.  The  '  New 
Italy '  is  strikingly  revealed  in  '  Don  Orsino.'  "  —  Boston  Budget. 

WITH  THE  IMMORTALS 

"  The  strange  central  idea  of  the  story  could  have  occurred  only  to  a  writer  whose 


knowledge  both  literary  and  scientific,  and  no  less  by  his  courage,  and  so  have  a  fascina 
tion  entirely  new  for  the  habitual  reader  of  novels.  Indeed,  Mr.  Crawford  has  succeeded 
in  taking  his  readers  quite  above  the  ordinary  plane  of  novel  interest." 

—  The  Boston  Advertiser. 

GREIFENSTEIN 

"...  Another  notable  contribution  to  the  literature  of  the  day.  Like  all  Mr.  Craw- 
ford's  work,  this  novel  is  crisp,  clear,  and  vigorous,  and  will  be  read  with  a  great  deal  of 
interest."  —  New  York  Evening  Telegram. 

A  CIGARETTE-MAKER'S   ROMANCE  and  KHALED 

''  It  is  a  touching  romance,  filled  with  scenes  of  great  dramatic  power." 

—  Boston  Commercial  Bulletin. 

t:  It  abounds  in  stirring  incidents  and  barbaric  picturesqueness ;  and^the  love  struggle 
of  the  unloved  Khaled  is  manly  in  its  simplicity  and  noble  in  its  ending." 

—  The  Mail  and  Express. 

THE  WITCH  OF  PRAGUE 

"  The  artistic  skill  with  which  this  extraordinary  story  is  constructed  and  carried  out 
is  admirable  and  delightful.  .  .  .  Mr.  Crawford  has  scored  a  decided  triumph,  for  the 
interest  of  the  tale  is  sustained  throughout.  ...  A  very  remarkable,  powerful,  and 
interesting  story."  —  New  York  Tribune. 

4 


THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SANTA  CRUZ 

This  book  is  due  on  the  lost  DATE  stamped  below. 


50m-6,'67(H2523s8)2373 


STORED  AT  NBLF 


PS1455.H4  1903 


3  2106  00206  6170 


